pRICE  10  CENTS 


VOL.7.      -;  ""gf^ESg""-:       NEW  YORK.       ("■■tiS'Ai?.."""-;      NO.  2.5ti 


^  or,  Fighting  Pat,  of  tlie 
J     Irisli  Brigade. 


By  Bernard  Wayde. 


The  Irish  scout  hunted  like  a  mad  wolf  in  the  forest. 


NcU 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


ALONG  THE  POTOMAC ; 


Fighting  Pat,  of  the  irisli   Brigade. 

BY   BERNARD    WAYDE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

ONE  OF  CORCOEAX'S  BOTS. 

"We'll  make  another  Foutenoy  of  it." 

"  Fonteuoy,  indeed !  Remember  you  have 
not  the  same  men  to  deal  with.  The  French 
and  their  Irish  allies  -n-ere  at  that  time  pit- 
ted against  the  old  oppressor,  England. 
Hang  it,  man,  you  make  too  much  of  a  dis- 
tinction. These  men  think  like  yourself 
that  they  are  right  in  protecting  the  land  of 
their  birth." 

"That  is,  that  they  are  to  propagate  and 
protect  slavery  ?"  sneeringly. 

"Even  so;  and.  whether  they  be  right  or 
wrong,  let  us  give  them  the  praise  their 
valor  deserves ;  for  braver  soldiers  I  never 
met  in  this  or  the  older  country." 

The  foregoing  conversation  occurred  to- 
ward the  fall  of  'G2;  and,  it  may  not  be 
amiss  to  state,  in  the  wine-room  of  one  of 
the  most  valiant  Irish  soldiers  that  ever 
drew  a  sword  for  the  preservation  of  the 
land  that  generously  extended  to  him  a 
home,  when  the  old  tyrant,  Britain,  had 
driven  him  and  his  family  from  possessions 
rightfully  theirs. 

You  will  ask,  and  naturally,  who  this 
was? 

In  all  reverence,  we  answer.  General 
Michael  Corcoran,  the  organizer  and  com- 
mander of  the  brave  and  chivalrous  Irish 


Legio 
Tht 


:  last  speaker  was  an  old  and  grizzled 
reteran,  who  had  on  many  a  bloody  Held 
distinguished  himself  as  a  tried  and  honor- 
ed soldier. 

The  majority  of  Irishmen  present — and 
there  were  nearly  a  score — applauded  his 
generous  speech ;  but,  like  all  assemblages 
of  the  kind,  there  were  a  few  dissentient 
voices. 

Among  the  rest,  a  dark-bearded,  power- 
fuUy-built  man,  who  was  of  somewhat 
douDtfulreputatiou  amoBg  his  companions, 
and  not  without  a  cause,  either. 

He  had  been  in  Ireland  what  is  known  as 
a  "middleman"— a  class  most  abhorred  by 
all  true  men. 

Neither  in  name  nor  feeling  could  he  be 
called  Irish.  In  fact,  he  was  of  the  "under- 
taker "  class  whose  ancestry  came  in  with 
William  of  Orange,  and  stole  and  confiscat- 
ed the  lands  from  their  rightful  owners. 

Jerry  Hynes,  so  long  as  his  petty  acts  of 
villainy  paid,  was  one  of  the  strongest  sup- 
porters of  English  ruie. 

The  moment  his  occupation  as  a  robber  of 
the  people  failed  him,  he  started  for  the 
land  of  the  stars  and  stripes,  and  took  upon 
himself,  both  in  and  out  of  season,  to  vin- 
dicate the  off-repeated  cry :  "  Ireland  for 
the  Irish." 

The  man's  villanies  had  gone  before  him, 
and  he  was  looked  upon  in  anything  but  a 
favorable  light  by  those  with  whom  he 
oame  in  contact. 

This  did  not  abash  this  former  traducer  of 
his  so-called  countrymen. 

His  brazen  impudence  carried  him 
through  it  all ;  and,  as  the  Irish  race  are 
proverbially  generous,  they  seemed  in  a 
great  measure  to  condone  his  shortcomings, 
as  they  were  known  in  the  "old  coun- 
try." 

As  the  man  Hynes  will  figure  prominently 
in  the  following  pages,  this  can  be  our  only 
excuse  for  introducing  him  at  such  length 
to  our  readers. 

The  conversation  had  been  progressing  for 
some  time  on  the  merits  and  demerits  of 
the  Southern  chivalry,  the  grizzled  hero,  to 
whom  we  have  refered,  taking  a  prominent 
part  in  the  discussion,  most  of  the  others  be- 
mg  simply  listeners  to  the  arguments  pro 
and  con,  applauding  any  good  point  when 
made  by  one  or  the  other. 

Jerry  Hynes  had  what  is  vulgarly  called 
the  "  gift  of  the  gab,"  and  so  far  held  his 
own  pretty  well. 

When  the  conversation  had  reached  the 

Eoint  we  have  described,  a  new  arrival 
astily  sntered  the  wine-room;  and,  with- 
out attempting  to  intrude  on  the  company, 
called,  in  a  pure  Connemara  accent : 

"  A  drink  of  the  best  potheen  you  have  in 
the  house!" 

The  men  at  the  bar  were  instantly  attract- 
ed to  the  stranger. 

Not  because  he  had  uttered  a  name  famil- 
j.l*r  to  them  all — "potheen  " — whisky. 
Qaite  tbe  reverse.  —  — 


The  man  himself  was  a  wonder.  I 

He  was  over  six  feet  iu  height,  of  great 
lireadth  of  shoulders,  and  of  a  form  that 
was  singularly  lithe  and  active. 

Kor  was  this  all. 

His  face  was  unmistakably  Celtic,  with  a 
regularity  of  feature  and  expressiveness  that 
was  uncommon— nay,  even  handsome. 

He  was,  moreover,  a  new  arrival  in  the 
country— a  genuine  importation  from  the 
"Laud  of  Saints"— for  so  has  Ireland  been 
termed  from  remote  ages 

"he  man  behind  the  1 
ipany,  as  much  as  to  s 
We'll  have  some  fun  with  the  stranger 
before  we're  done  with  him." 

A  few  in  the  crowd  winked  in  return, 
while  Jerry  Hynes,  from  some  unmistakable 
cause,  turned  as  pale  as  death. 

Potheeu.did  you  say.my  friend  ?"  queried 

sharp 

lap. 

The  fresh  arrival  in  New  York  knew  at  a 
single  glance  that  be  was  being  made  fun  of. 

"  And  what  may  potheen  be,  if  it's  a  fair 
question  ?  We  have  all  sorts  of  drinks,  but 
never  heard  of  that.  Perhaps  you  are  from 
the  great  West?"  familiarly. 

"  Yes— from  tlie  Ulth:  West — a  place  called 
Connemara.     You  may  have  heard  of  it'i"' 

"'Ponmy  life,  no,"  said  the  barkeeper, 
again  winking  at  the  lompany. 

He  tlu'iiLlit  tliU  great  chaff-so  did  a  few 

"Then  it  iiiust  l>e'a  Connemara  drink," 
continued  the  man  of  drinks,  purposely  mis- 
pronouncing the  word. 

Then  came  a  loud  laugh— only  from  a  few 
of  the  assemblage,  however— those  who  cur- 
ried favor  with  the  would-be  wit. 

val  was  getting  both  impa- 


tieir 


I'oufo 


whisky  is:- 

"  Oh,  you  mean  whisky  then  ?  Why  didn't 
you  say  so?    What  is  it  to  be  ?" 

"  Oh,  give  him  chain-lightning ! "  cried  one 
of  the  crowd.  "Perhaps  he's  steel-plated 
and  copper-bottomed." 

This  was  going  beyond  a  joke. 

"Look  here,sir,"saidthe  new-comer,  turn- 
ing full  upon  the  last  speaker ;  "  however  I 
may  take  the  impertinence  of  the  little  jack- 
anapes behind  the  counter,  I  take  none  from 
you.    Ha! " 

The  exclamation  was  hissed  out,  rather 
than  spoken,  as  the  young  Irishman  caught 
sight  of  Jerry  Hynes. 

The  former  laud-grabber  quickly  averted 
his  face. 

But  too  late. 

He  was  recognized. 

Then,  without  heeding  the  man  who  was 
endeavoring  to  have  a  little  fun  at  his  ex- 
pense,  with  one  bound  he  sprung  into  the 
midst  of  the  company,  and  seizing  Hynes  by 
the  throat  shook  him  as  a  terrier  would  a 
rat. 

"  Aha !  and  so  we  have  met  again,  accursed 
traitor,  and  murderer  of  my  brother !  Oh, 
but  I  would  have  given  half  my  life  but  yes- 
terday for  this  meeting !  Curse  you— curse 
you!" 

The  voice  and  fiercely-spoken  words  of  the 
new-comer  were  terriblem  their  significance. 

Did  any  of  my  readers  ever  behold  a  scene 
where  the  power  of  will,  magnetic  power- 
call  it  what  you  like— Insptred  the  bravest 
and  strongest  with  awB. 

The  man's  passion  was  terrible ;  his  voice 
made  the  boldest  blanch,  and,  in  his  hands, 
the  powerful  and  brutal  Jerry  Hynes  was 
but  as  a  child. 

Even  the  barkeeper  behind  the  counter 
turned  as  white  as  a  corose. 

"Mercy!  help!  I  oholie!  I  die!"  gasped 
the  wretched  Jerry. 

It  was  then  that  a  revulsion  of  feeling 
came. 

The  grizzled  veteran  of  n  umerous  wars 
was  the  first  to  spring  forward. 

"  Do  not  murder  the  man!"  he  thundered 
out.  "  Release  him  at  once !  If  he  has  done 
anything  against  you,  or  your  family,  that  is 
no  way  to  treat  him." 

The  man  who  had  nobly  distinguished 
himself  on  many  a  field  of  honor  and  blood 
was  fairly  aroused  to  the  exigencies  of  the 
occasion ;  and  his  example  was  followed  by 
many  others,  who,  up  to  this,  had  been  spell- 
bound and  terror-stricken. 

There  was  a  combined  rush  made  upon  the 
infuriated  man. 

They  clinched  with  him ;  but  not  before  he 
had  hurled  Hynes  from  him. 

The  nearly  suffocated  man  feU  to  the  floor 
like  a  limp  rag. 

Crash  be  went,  and  lay  as  one  lifeless 


The  stranger,  nothing  daunted  liy  the  rush 
made  upon  him,  now,  like  an  infuriated 
tiger,  turned  his  attention  to  the  men  who 
grappled  with  him. 

Had  they  known  the  real  power  of  his 
arm  they  would  have  acted  wisely  to  have 
kept  out  of  his  reach,  for  down  they  went, 
one  after  another,  with  a  rapidity  perfectly 
indescribable. 

Talking  of  the  blows  of  your  champion 
prize-fighter :  they  were  nothing  in  compar- 

And  now  we  come  to  think  of  a  case  which 
occurred  in  a  London  street,  where  a  broad- 
shouldered,  hard-fisted  Irishman,  late  from 
the  Wexford  hills,  held  his  own  against  fif- 
teen policemen,  and,  with  a  lilow  of  his  flst, 
struck  one  of  them  dead ;  f  oi'  which  display 
of  prowess  he  was  sentenced  to  twenty  years' 
penal  servitude. 

Poor  fellow !  he  might  have  distinguished 
himself  in  a  more  noble  field  of  action.  How- 
ever, he  was  the  assailed  and  not  the  assail' 
ant. 
But  to  return. 

In  all  directions  went  the  men  who  had 
rushed  upon  the  "greenhorn,"  and,  as  they 
tumbled  over  each  other,  the  sight  was  of  a 
nature  most  ludicrous. 

Blows  rattled  about  their  heads  fast  and 
furious,  and,  the  instant  they  came  up,  down 
they  again  went. 

The  success  of  the  combat  was  all  too  one- 
sided to  be  pleasant. 

No  doubt  more  dangerous  weapons  than 
fists  would  finally  have  been  used  but  for  the 
advent  of  Michael  Corcoran  himself,  who 
had  just  entered. 

"Halloo!"  was  his  first  exclamation, 
"  What  is  this  ?" 
The  men  on  the  floor  presented  a  mosl 
orry  appearance,  and  those  who  might,  in 
the  heat  of  passion,  have  drawn  revolvers,, 
were  prevented  from  so  doing  by  the  timely 
arrival  of  the  gallant  proprietor. 

The  stranger's  back  was  turned  to  the 
colonel  of  the  Irish  Legion,  which  was  then 
being  organized,  and  it  was  not  until  Cor- 
coran had  spoken  that  he  turned  and  faced 
him  with  flashing  eye  and  lowering  brow, 
boding  little  good  to  any  new-comer  who 
might  be  likely  to  interfere. 

The  presence  of  Corcoran  had,  however, 
an  almost  magical  effect  on  the  man. 

The  lowering  brow  for  a  moment  became 
wreathed  in  a  smile  of  recognition.  Next  a 
look  of  shame  overspread  it,  then  the  eyes 
were  cast  toward  the  ground. 

What  had  caused  this  marvelous  change  in 
one,  who  a  moment  before  had  given  every 
pioof  of  a  lion-like  courage  ?  Not  only  that, 
indeed,  but  a  ferocity  tigerish  in  its  power- 
in  its  fearful  intensity  and  violence  ? 

It  was  simply  that  the  two  men  had  recog- 
nized each  other- that  the  one  looked  upon 
the  other  as  the  only  true  friend  he  had  ever 
had. 

Corcoran  approached  the  young  man,  and 
laying  his  hand  gently  on  his  broad  shoul- 
der, said : 
"  I  expected  you,  Pat.    I  am  very  glad  to 

see  that  you  arrived  safely,  but " 

"  You  did  not  expect  to  find  me  making  i> 
blackguard  of  myself,"  said  the  other, 
abashed. 

"  Do  not  say  that,  Pat !  You  should  not 
apply  opprobrious  epithets  to  yourself.  I 
am  sure  if  the  truth  were  known,"  pointing 
to  his  scowling  opponents,  "they  were  more 
in  fault  than  you.  I  should  be  sorry  to 
think  otherwise." 

"I  shall  blame  no  one  but  myself,"  was 
the  young  fellow's  simple  reply.  "  I  suppose 
it's  all  due  to  my  ignorance  of  the  ways  of 
the  country." 

In  his  shame  and  bitterness  of  heart  at  be- 
ing caught  in  a  low  quarrel  with  strangers, 
he  had  even  forgotten  for  the  time  the  exist- 
ence and  presence  of  his  deadly  enemy— Jerry 
Hynes. 
Corcoran  shook  his  head  doubtingly. 
It  was  evident  that  he  did  not  attribute 
the  late  unseemly  broil  to  his  protege. 
Far  from  it. 

There  was  something  more  in  it  all,  how- 
ever, than  he  could  just  then  fathom. 

Besides,  those  who  had  suffered  at  the 
hands  of  the  impetuous  young  Irishman, 
were  to  a  man  unwilling  to  come  forward 
and  give  a  true  version  of  the  affair. 

It  13  too  late  in  the  day  to  advance  the  ab- 
surd aphorism  that  a  good  man  likes  the  fel- 
low who  gives  him  a  downright  thrashing 
better  than  he  whom  he  thrashes. 

Many  in  that  company  subsequently  dis- 
tinguished themselves  as  heroes,  and  yet 
they  looked  with  no  little  ill-will  upon  the 
youth  who  floored  them  with  such  terriflo 
right  and  left  handers. 
"Boys!"  said  the  gallant  Michael, 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


mg  the  assemblage,  "  howeTer  this  row  has 
come  about  matters  little.  I  want  vou  now 
to  be  all  good  friends.  Come,  look  up,  Pat. 
This,  gentlemen,  is  my  nephew,  Pat  Moouey , 
as  good  and  true  a  man  as  ever  laft  the  old 
sod.  I  may  tell  you  I  expected  his  arrival 
this  very  day.  By  some  means  I  had  th 
misfortune  to  miss  him.  However,  here  h 
Is,  and  I  want  you  to  make  up  your  littl 
differences  and  be  friends,  for  he  is  one  of 
Ours— a  lad  of  the  Irish  Legion !" 


CHAPTER  II. 

A  MURDEROUS  ATTACK. 

An  Irishman,  proverbially,  is  quick  to  an- 
ger, and  quick  to  forgive. 

No  sooner  had  they  heard  the  announce- 
ment of  Gennral  Corcoran— at  that  time  col- 
onel—than with  many  hearty  welcomes,  they 
gathered  around  their  new  comrade,  shak- 
mg  him,  each  in  turn,  warmly  by  the  hand. 

'•  Cacd  miUc  faiUhc !"  said  one. 

"  Glory  to  you ! "  said  another. 

"Arrahl  but  he's  the  boy  for 


broke 


shindy,' 


illl 


dies, "  a  fourth  added.as  he  took  the  big  brown 
hand  of  the  new  arrival  in  his  own  and  gave 
It  a  hearty  shake. 

"So  all  is  forgiven,"  said  Pat,  delighted  at 
the  turn  of  affairs. 

"Be  me  sowl,  I'd  like  to  see  who'd  say 
nay  agm' that,"  rejoined  a  wiry  little  man 
called  Byrne.  "  You  came  down  on  me  like 
a  telegraph  pole,  but  here's  me  hand ;  and 
npw  let  us  all  have  a  drink  on  the  strength 

This  proposal  met  with  ready  acquiescent^ 
on  the  part  of  the  rest  of  the  company,  and 
they  all  went  up  to  the  bar. 

The  bartender,  the  cause  of  the  row  in  the 
first  instance,  could  not  be  found. 

He  m  ust  have  got  scared  and  bolted  duriu' 
the  fracas. 

Hisi 


teered  to  do  the  honors  of  the 

While  the  drinks  were  being  served,  some 
one  bethought  him  of  the  half-strangled 
Jerry  Hyues. 

This  individual  had  also  disappeared. 

There  was  uo  duub;  be  had  a  wholesome 
dread  of  the  redoubtable  Pat  Mooney,  and 
for  a  very  good  cause  had  no  wish  to  re- 
main. 

But  moi-i'  III"  tli;s  ht-reafter. 

Wecaiij.iiiy~;iy  that  the  greater  portion 
ot  that  111,-lit  was  siMut  very  pleasantly  amid 
song  ami  ,]itkt'  am]  story. 

That  day  week  the  boys  of  the  Irish  Legion 
woiild  be  fully  equipped  and  on  their  way 
to  Washington  from  which  point  they  were 
to  join   MoClellau's  army  and  the  gallant 


The  colonel  could,  however,  see  about  a 
dozen  black  figures,  emerging  from  the 
shadow  of  the  houses  on  their  side  of  the 
street. 

Tliere  seemed  to  be  a  score  in  all,  with  those 
who  had  already  sprung  forward . 

Not  a  bit  daunted  by  the  number  of  his  as- 
sailants, the  gallant  Michael,  as  quick  as  a 
flash,  drew  his  revolver,  and  staudins  over 
his  fallen  nephew,  determined 
sell  his  life  dearly,  but  to  protect 
Pat  Moouey  at  all  hazards. 

Their  assailants  seemed  to  hesitate  for  a 
moment  whether  they  should  come  on  or 


5nly  t 
falle 


the 


<  of  the  party,  who  kept 
Huid.  decided  them. 
KiUi  a  suuultaneousrush. 
t  till'  rommauding  voice 
iruoiau.  "  The  fli-st  man 
■  step  does  so  at  the  risk 


Inst  thought  that  Hyues  would 
:ion.  But  he  did  nothing  of  the 
ith  very  little  difficulty  he  ob- 
uster  to  Meagher's  brigade  then 


iorry  that 
very  niau 
veritable 

iauized  aud 


ved 


the 


Meagher  and  his  Irish  contingent  force. 

"\es,  boys,"  said  Corcoran,  during 
avenmg,  "my  nephew,  Pat,  has  come  all 
way  from  the  Green  Isle  to  join  us.  You 
have  had  a  specimen  of  hisprowess,audif  he 
does  only  half  as  well  on  the  field,  as  he"  has 
done  to-mght,  I'll  be  well  satisfied  with  him  " 
.  Of  course  the  company  were  unanimous 
in  their  praises  of  the  young  fellows  pluck, 
and  expressed  themselves  as  only  too  proud 
that  he  was  to  be  one  of  themselves 

By  the  time  they  parted  that  night  Jerry 
Hyues  and  his  past  villauies  were  for  the 
time,  at  any  rate,  forgotten. 

Hyues  was  a  rough  man,  and  had  a  rough 
crowd  to  back  him  up— for  who  that  has 
money  cannot  get  a  following  in  New  York 
to  obey  his  lightest  behest  ? 

Then  under  the  circumstances  Hynes  could 
be  a  dangerous  enemy. 

It  had  been  his  intention  to  have  followed 
the  fortunes  of  the  legion  in  the  field,  for 


aud  accepted  by 


been 
him 

However,  let  that  for  the  present  pass  ;  we 
will  deal  more  effectually  with  Hynes  and 
his  aspirations,  or  whatever  else  they  mav 
be  termed,  hereafter.  '^        ' 

Michael  Corcoran  and  his  nephew  were 
about  the  last  to  leave  the  room,  and  when 
they  had  issued  into  the  open  air  they 
■walked  along  Prince  street  in  the  direction 
of  Broadway. 

In  fact,  Corcoran  at  the  time  put  up  at  one 
of  the  hotels  on  that  busy  thoroughfare. 

As  they  neared  Broadway,  conversing  on 
the  prospects  of  their  native  land,  a  sudden 
rush  was  made  from  their  rear,  and  before 
the  stalwart  Pat  could  turn  to  defend  him- 
self, he  received  a  fearful  blow  from  a  slung- 
Bhot  that  knocked  him  senseless. 

Corcoran  turned  just  in  time  to  avoid  a 
second  blow  aimed  at  his  own  head 

The  night  was  very  dark  as  it  happened, 
stad  tbe  feeble  glitter  of  a  lamp  some  disi  | 


"  Halt 
of  the  fear 
that  comes 
of  his  life!" 
There  was  no  mistaking  his  demeanor. 
They  had  now  a  man  to  deal  with  who 
feared  no  mortalliving— a  born  leader  of  men 
—and  those  who  were  so  intent  on  their 
grand  rush,  drew  back  as  though  some  pow- 
erful electric  shock  had  met  them. 

Such  is  the  force  that  at  rare  intervals  one 
mind  exercises  over  many ! 

No  one  ever  met  Corcoran,  but  had  to  ac- 
knowledge the  same. 

It  was  not  the  colonel's  pistol  that  had 
such  a  marvelous  effect  on  his  assailants— it 
was,  in  fact,  the  man's  whole  nature— full 
of  an  uumistakable  power  to  command,  and 
be  obliged ! 

A  smile  of  scorn  curled  Corcorau's  lips  as 
he  beheld  the  effect  of  his  speech. 

"Do  you  call  yourselves  men,"  he  cou- 
tinued,  intones  of  withering  contempt,  "for 
twenty  of  you  to  attack  two,  and  behind 
their  backs  at  that  ?  I  am  quite  ignorant  as 
to  whom  you  are  or  the  object  of  your  mur- 
derous assault^for  I  know  not  but  vou 
have  killed  one  as  near  to  me  as  life.  "Oh 
cowards!  cowards!  Dearly  shall  you  rue 
your  part  in  this  night's  work  '" 

The  gallant  colonel's  heart  was  wrung 
with  anguish  as  his  eyes  fell  on  the  motion- 
less form  at  his  feet. 

For  an  instaut  the  hand  in  which  he  held 
the  revolver  trembled,  aud  as  if  a  spasm  of 
emotion  had  overcome  him,  the  muzzle  of 
the  weapon  was  instinctively  lowered. 

Then,  and  not  till  then,  was  the  charm 
broken. 

The  man  who  had  been  urging  them  on 
before  cried  now  in  a  hoarse  whisper: 

Spring  upon  him— spring  upon  him! 
Are  you  all  afraid  ?    Now  isyour  time!" 

It  would  have  been   impossible    to    have 
recognized    this   man's  voice,   so   fearfully 
bitter  were  the  words  hissed  out. 
,   As  to  himself,  he  was  completely  hidden 
m  the  gloom.  f        j 

"At  him— at  him!"  urged  the   leader   of 
these  desperadoes. 
There  was  no  longer  hesitation. 
There  was  a  wild  rush. 
Crack !  crack  !  crack ! 

Three  heavy  thuds  on  the  paved  sidewalk 
told  the  accuracy  of  Corcoran  3  aim,  as  a 
number  of  yells  went  up  into  the  night. 

Again  and  again  went   the   startling   re- 
ports of  the  deadly  revolver. 
Two  more  had  fallen ! 

Then  came  a  rush  of  heavy  steps  from 
Broadway.    Aid  was  at  hand  I 

Corcorau's  assailants  did  not  wait  to  see 
who  were  coming. 

They  broke  and  ran  as  fast  as  their  le^s 
could  carry  them  in  the  direction  of  tuv. 
Bowery,  leaving  their  dead  and  wounded 
where  they  had  fallen. 


dillioi 


CHAPTER  III. 

ON    THE     POTOMAC. 

A  week  elapsed  since  Corcorau's  gallant 
stand  on  Prince  street.  =''"aui, 

Pat  Mooney,  who  had  been  stricken  sense- 
less on  that  night,  recovered  sufficiently  to 
join  the  ranks  of  the  Irish  Legion. 

Ihoughthe  two  relatives  had  never  dis- 
covered who  the  instigator  of  their  murder- 
?hv«w^^^Jl''°!t'^*^?^  ^^^  ^^<J  nevertheless  a 
threwd  idea  that  it  was  none  other  than  his 
old  and  bitter  enemy,  Jerry  Hy 

Pat  never  mentioned  his  s 
Corcoran,  not  wishing  to  embrolThi' 
anyaffairof  his;  and  now  that  they  were 
m^lit«,.,.  Fi?'°k°*  entering  upon  an  active 
militaiy  life,  there  was,  in  a  great  measure, 
a  gulf  placed  between  them,  which  must 
necessarily  prevent  their  former  meetings. 

This,  of  course,  the  exigencies  of  the  ser- 


suspicions    to 


liKlr.d,  iiiu.ti  lia.l  to  be  done  before  the 
L.'.^'.on  rouM  11, ov,.  to  the  front.  The  men 
had  to  l>e  luured  to  camp  lite,  aud  taught 
the  rudiments  of  their  military  education. 

The  art  of  war  cannot  be  learned  in  a  day, 
and  however  apt  the  recruit  is,  it  becomes 
necessary  to  familiarize  him  with  company 
and  battalion  drill,  as  well  as  the  value  of 
obedience— the  first  duty  of  a  soldier. 

For  over  five  weeks  Colonel  Corcoran  aud 
his  officers  had  all  on  their  hands  they  could 
very  well  attend  to. 

Discipline  had  to  be  maintained.  Undue 
familiarity  between  officers  and  men,  the 
result  of  old-time  acquaintance,  had  to  be 
relentlessly  crushed  out. 
The  latter  at  first  was  a  thing  of  no  little 
Tlie  soldier  in  the  ranks  could 
not  tor  Ills  lili-  see  why  he  should  not  be  on 
till'  sanio  siH-akiug  terms  as  previously  with 
uiajor  oicaplaiu  so-and-so  as  he  had  been 
beluie  joiuing  the  Legion. 

He  presently  found  out  his  mistake,  and 
soon  conformed  to  the  principles  involved 
in  his  new  life;  but  not,  however,  before  he 
had  been  severely  punished  for  disobe- 
dience. 

"  I  mean  making  the  Legion  a  mode"  jne," 
said  Colonel  Corcoran.    And  he  did. 

Soldiers  aud  officers  were  drilled  from 
morning  till  night,  aud  the  camp  presented 
a  scene  of  bustle  and  activity  seldom  or  ever 
witnessed. 

It  was  about  closing  of  the  sixth  week 
when  the  Legiou  got  the  order  to  proceed  to 

l!cii>  tlioy  were  met  by  thousands  of  their 
coimtiyiurii  amidst  the  wildest  enthusiasm. 
l-'<ii's  KiTi'  given  in  their  houor,  aud  their 
spl.-mlid  soldierlike  appearance  was  warmly 

" '  "^  '■"  all  classes  in  the  couimuuity. 

e  not  to  remain  King  in  the  Capi- 
uu;  uuL  a  little  incident  occurred  during 
their  lirief  stay  which  we  shall  now  proceed 
to  relate,  the  more  so  as  it  is  connected  with 
two  prominent  characters  of  our  story. 

The  membei-3  of  the  Irish  Legiou  had 
pitched  their  tents  somewhere  In  the  vicinity 
of  the  banks  of  the  Potomac. 

It  was  about  the  third  night  after  their  ar- 
rival  iu  Washingtou— a  crisp,  beautiful  moon- 
light night,  by  the  way— that  Fighting  Pat 
was  pacing  his  post  on  the  east  side  of  the 
camp  in  his  turn  at  sontiucl  duty. 

He  enjoyoii  the  l.eautv  of  the  "evening,  and 
more  than  .iijoN ,  d  lii>  now  li£e-so  much  so, 
indeed,  that  lie  iias  (  liautiug  in  half-sad, 
half-merry  eademes  a  once  popular  ballad, 
that  he  had  hearil  iu  his  childhood. 

Fighting  Pat  had  about  finished  one  verse, 
when  the  sound  of  a  horse's  feet  riveted  his 
attention. 

A  moment  later  and  the  horseman  ap- 
peared. 

The  sounds,  which,  evidently,  came  from 
the  direction  of  the  river,  grew  louder. 

As  yet,  however,  the  horseman  was  not  in 
sight,  from  the  fact  that  he  was  still  hidden 
by  a  long,  dark  fringe  of  pine  trees,  exteud- 
lug  on  the  east  side  of  the  camp  for  some 
distance. 

"  1 1  must  be  the  officer  of  the  day , "  thought 
the  sentinel.  "  Well,  let  him  come.  I  thiuk 
he'll  find  that  I  know  my  duty." 


They  wt 


CHAPTER  IV. 

DEALING  WITH  AN  OLD  ENEMY. 

came,  into  the  full   and  brilliant 


^  Fighting  Pat  made  two  discoveries,  almost 
simultaneously. 

First,  that  it  was  not  the  officer  of  the  day- 
second,  tliat  it  was  his  old  enemy,  Jerry 
Hynes,  in  the  full  regimentals  of  a  major  of 
Meagher's  brigade. 

The  discovery  burst  upon  him  Uke  a 
powerful  electric  shock,  aud  he  trembled 
bef  ween  emotions  of  rage  and  excitement 

Here  was  indeed  a  dilemma ! 

What  was  he  to  do,  or  how  was  he  to  aot 
under  the  circumstances  f 

The  natural  feelings  of  the  man  suggested 
draggmg  the  traitor  from   his  hor*B,  aad 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY 


of  the  soldier  lM-.-|Hik..  .  .1  M-lh-ijcf  aud  respeu., 

CoulG  be  liniii-t  tlic  tart  that  the  man  who 
wasapproiK-liiiij;  was  the  cause  of  his  dear 
brother's  death,  aud  the  ruiu  o£  his  family' 

Not  only  this,  but  the  rival  of  his  dearest 
affections— whose  lying  tongue  had  plaeeil  a 
barrier  between  himself  aud  one  deai'rto 
him  thau  life. 

The  very  sight  of  this  man  infuriated  him, 
aud  yet  he  was  placed  in  a  position  in  which 
he  could  not  exercise  his  own  free  will  with- 
aut  disgracing  himself. 

What  then  was  he  to  do? 

His  last  thought  was  to  commit  a  breach 
of  military  discipline— which  he  must  neces- 
sarily be  guilty  of  if  he  failed  to  salute  the 
man. 

Therefore,  we  say  he  was  in  as  tight  a  fix 
as  ever  man  was  placed  in  yet. 

At  that  moment  he  most  bitterly  regretted 
that  he  had  ever  become  a  soldier. 

With  a  sigh  of  dejection  and  despair,  he 
stopped  short  in  his  walk,  and  tried  to  think 
■what  was  best  to  be  done. 

"Shall  I  let  him  pass  as  though  I  had  not 
recognized  him?"  was  his  flrst  mental  intei^ 
rogation. 

"No,  no,"  was  his  second  thought,  "the 
night  is  too  bright  for  that,  and " 

He  paused  suddenly  in  his  oommunings, 
for  Major  Hynes  was  already  upon  him,  and 
unchallenged. 

The  major  checked  his  horse,  and  without 
appearing  to  have  recognized  the  young 
Bentinel,  said,  half -flippantly : 

"  I  presume  you  are  the  sentinel  on  this 
post?" 

"I  am." 

"Are  you  aware  that  you  have  not  chal- 
lenged?" 

"Yes." 

"Do  you  know  the  punishment  for  being 
so  remiss  in  your  duty?" 

"I  do." 

"Perhaps  you  will  now  tell  me  whose 
camp  I  am  approaching?" 

"  Brigadier-general  Corooran's." 

"Oh,  indeed!"  sneering  superclUiously. 
"  Perhaps  you  will  answer  me  another  ques- 
tion, if  you  feel  so  disposed?" 

The  major  was  gaining  courage  by  the 
other's  apparent  calmness. 

His  object  was  to  have  the  sentinel  com- 
mit himself  further,  so  that  he  would  have 
the  pull  on  him. 

"Well,  what  is  it?"  said  Fighting  Pat, 
without  betraying  the  rage  that  was  consum- 
ing him. 

"It  is  this:  Is  this  the  usual  way  of  doing 
things  in  Corcoran's  camp  ?" 

"No." 

•"  Then  why  did  you  not  challenge?" 

Pat  was  fast  losing  all  command  of  him- 
■self. 

He  was  resolved,  however,  to  keep  his  tem- 
per, so  as  not  to  give  his  old  enemy  a  chance 
to  report  him. 

Breaches  of  discipline  at  that  time  were 
punished  severely. 

Pat  Mooney  had  yet  another  object  in 
view. 

He  would  permit  this  scoundrel  to  go  to 
the  end  of  his  tether,  so  to  speak  ;  then  show 
him  he  was  not  to   be  insulted  with   impun- 

His  hands  were  itching  to  make  a  grab  at 
his  throat,  but  he  would  wait  until  even  his 
endurance  could  stand  it  no  longer. 

"Why  did  you  not  challenge ?"  repeated 
Hynes,  sharply. 

"Are  you  particularly  interested  to 
know  i" 


jor,  laughing'coarsely.  "  I  must  say  you  do 
the  Irish  Legion  credit,  taking  into  consider- 
ation that  you  have  not  yet  even  saluted  your 
superior  ofhcer.  You  ai-e  green  to  the  busi- 
ness, I  take  it." 

"Think  so?" 

"  I  do,  most  assuredly.  Now,  I  will  ride 
back  a  little  way,  and  as  I  come  up  you  will 
challenge  and  salute  ;  and,  hark  you,  sir,  if 
you  make  any  mistake  I  shall  have  you  put 
under  arrest !" 

"Very  good." 

"You  are  an  impertinent  fellow,"  said  the 
^ajor,  hotly.  "  But  we  meet  men  of  your 
kind  every  day,  and  know  how  to  tame 
them." 

Pat  never  knew  from  that  day  to  this  how 
jhe  had  controlled  himself  so  long ;  but  con- 
trol himself  he  did,  with  a  power  that  was 
.jnarvelous  for  one  of  his  highly  excitable 
inature. 

Major  Hrnes'  attention  was  too  plain  to  be 
imisunderstood. 


Hynes, 

)0U 

Fightir.i 


about  fifty  jiaccs  back. 

g  Pat    knew  well  enougl 

he  would  not  have 


enough   that  he 


If  he  could  only  have  the  young  sentinel 


darcl  acted  as  he  had 

■■'I'lic  M  .lun.licl !"  he  muttered  through 
lii,< -I  aim::  iccth.  "I  have  stood  his  inso- 
lence imiL' enough.  I've  but  one  life  to  lose, 
but  Id  lose  it  cheerfully  to  choke  the  life 
out  of  the  villaiu  !" 

Had  Major  Hynes  caught  sight  of  the 
young  man's  face  at  that  moment,  he  would 
"have  chosen  another  time  and  opportunity 
for  injuring  him. 

Unluckily  for  himself  he  had  not. 

Hynes'  commentary  was,  as  he  rode  away 
from  the  young  sentinel's  post . 

"  I  cannot  understand  him.  It  is  not  pos- 
sible that  he  has  not  recognized  me.  No — 
no  !  he  is  on  his  guard,  that's  evident;  and, 
knowing  that  he  has  been  wrong  in  not  chal- 
lenging, he's  doubly  so.  But  I  must  be  his 
destruction ;  I  have  sworn  it !  According  to 
the  rules  of  the  service  in  time  of  war,  strik- 
ing a  superior  ofBcer  is  punishable  by  death. 
They  want  to  make  an  example— he  shall  be 
the  flrst." 

Other  thoughts  came  into  the  gallant  ma- 
jor's head. 

Corcoran  had  been  called  away  that  very 
day  to  headquarters.  A  day  before  he  had 
got  his  brigadier-general' 

jld  only  ■ 
tried  without  delay  by  a  general  court-mar- 
tial, Pat  Mooney's  fate  would  be  sealed. 

He  and  others  of  his  friends  had  power 
enough  to  guarantee  that. 

These  thoughts  passed  rapidly  through  his 
mind  as  he  again  wheeled  his  horse  and  ap- 
proached the  young  soldier's  post. 

He  expected  a  challenge,  and  received 
none. 

He  came  up  in  a  furious  rage,  and  began 
growling  oursome  coarse  oaths,  as  to  what 
he  would  do. 

But  the  now  thoroughly  aroused  soldi 
'  '      "ike  a  tiger,  dragging  hi 
ith    the  suddenness  of  i 
lightning  flash. 

There  was  a  desperate  struggle. 

Then  the  sudden  loud  banging  report  of  a 
firearm. 


on  the  ground 

Had  Pat  used  both  hands  at  flrst,  he  would 
have  had  no  difBculty  in  overpowering 
Hynes,  strong  a  man  as  he  was.  But  he  had 
not,  and  consequently  the  major  managed 
to  get  a  pretty  firm  hold  of  him. 

Even  under  these  circumstances  the  strug- 
gle would  not  have  lasted  long;  Major 
Hynes  knew  it,  and  thanked  his  good  luck 
that  the  rifle  had  gone  off  in  the  way  it  had. 

He  could  now  bring  a  charge  of  attempted 
murder  as  well  as  assault. 

He  felt  that  he  really  had  the  young  man 
in  his  power,  and  it  would  be  no  fault  of  his 
if  death  were  not  his  portion. 

A  combined  look  of  joy  and  hate  came 
into  the  ruffian's  eyes  as  he  tugged  and 
struggled  with  his  assailant. 

"I  have  you  where  I  want  you  now,"  he 
hissed.  "  You  have  signed  your  death  war- 
rant, my  fine  fellow— Norah  and  Conne- 
mara  will  see  you  no  more!" 

"  Y'ou  at  least  shall  not  live  to  see  it!" 
flercely  retorted  Pat,  as  with  one  wrench  he 
released  himself  aud  threw  himself  once 
more  upon  the  now  really  terrified  major. 

Hynes  in  his  despair,  made  the  place  ring 
again  with  his  cries : 

"  Murder— help— murder!" 

"You  accursed  scoundrel,  I  shall  make  it 
murder!"  shouted  Mooney,  as  he  fastened 
his  iron  grip  on  the  other's  throat;  and  no 
doubt  in  another  moment  or  two  he  would 
have  accomplished  his  threat,  but  for  the 
timely  arrival  of  about  a  dozen  of  theguard. 

They  threw  themselves  upon  him ;  aud, 
after  a  desperate  struggle,  succeeded  in  re- 
leasing the  half-suffocated  Hynes. 

"  This  is  a  bad  business  for  you,  Pat,"  said 
the  officer  of  the  guard,  eying  the  young 
man  compassionately.  "  A  very  bad  busi- 
ness, indeed." 

So  thought  the  rest  of  the  men,  who  had 
learned  something  of  the  old  feud  between 
private  and  officer. 

The  end  was  that  Fighting  Pat  was  march- 
ed back  a  prisoner,  while  Major  Hvnes  was 
assisted  into  camp,  more  dead  than  alive. 

CHAPTER  V. 

BRIEFLY   RELATING  TO  THK  PEUD. 

There  was  not  a  man  in   the  whole  Le(jion 


but  his  offense  was  so  serious  in  its  character 
that  many  shook  their  heads,  pitying  him 
from  the  bottom  of  their  hearts. 

He  had  been  guilty  of  "insubordination 
and  attempted  murder  "—that  was  his  crime, 
and  the  crime  indeed  upon  which  he  was  to 
be  charged  and  tried. 

Major  Hynes  took  care  to  paint  the  assault 
made  upon  him  iu  the  very  blackest  color. 

His  version  certainly  was  by  no  means  fa- 
vorable to  Fighting  Pat.    ■ 

He  stated  that  he  was  riding  into  camp 
with  a  dispatch  for  General  Corcoran  when 
the  sentinel  shot  at  him  as  he  was  in  the  act 
of  passing  his  post. 

When  asked  at  the  preliminary  proceed- 
ings of  a  regimental  court-martial,  if  the 
man  had  seen  him  before,  he  answered  in 
tihe  affirmative — and  that  he  was  his  swoit] 
enemy. 

It  was  not  in  fact  the  first  time  the  prison- 
er had  threatened  his  life. 

He  had  once  before  attempted  it  in  New 
York. 

The  cause  of  the  feud  was  an  old  family 
dispute  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic,  and 
that  the  prisoner's  principal  reason  for  com- 
ing here  was  to  have  his  revenge  on  him. 

This  ,and  much  more,  said  Major  Hynes. 

He  told  a  straightforward  and  apparently 
truthful  story,  corroborated  to  a  certain  ex- 
tent by  witnesses  who  knew  both  men. 


it  did  he   hoped   to   be  able  to   meet  the 


mitigiated  liar  and  scoundrel. 

This  was  well  enough. 

But  take  the  matter  in  another  light  it 
was  bad  for  Mooney. 

With  the  kind  reader's  permission  we  will 
now  briefiy  recapitulate  the  cause  of  this 
feud  which  was  said  to  exist  between  Pat 
and  his  accuser. 

To  do  so  we  must  go  back  about  five  years 
from  the  date  of  our  story. 

In  a  picturesque  little  hamlet  in  the  west- 
ern part  of  Connemara  lived  one  Nugent 
Mooney— a  farmer  fairly  well  to  do  in  the 
world, "but  who  was  unmarried,  and  a  bach- 
elor, and  likely  to  remain  so,  at  least  so  said 
the  world. 

He  was  not  quite  alone,  however,  for  resid- 
ing with  him  were  two  nephews  and  one 
niece — the  orphan  children  of  his  deceased 
brother. 

Nugent  Mooney  had  the  reputation  of  be- 
ing a  good  and  true  man,  but  for  sundry 
causes  had  the  misfortune  to  incur  the  dis- 
pleasure of  a  certain  "  middleman,"  with 
whom  we  are  already  acquainted. 

Hynes  had  sworn  to  rum  Nugent,  and  suc- 
ceeded. The  old  man  was  driven  from  his 
farm,  misfortune  followed  upon  misfortune, 
until  Nugent  Mooney  perished  by  the  road- 


pauper  aud  a  wanderer. 

followed  the  niece,  dying 

tion— the  result  of  want  and  exposure. 


Tlien  followed  the  niece,  dying  of  consump- 


But  Jerry  Hynes'  vengeance  was  not  yet 
satiated. 

He  had  a  false  charge  trumped  up  against 
Pat's  elder  brother,  which  landed  him  in  a 
convict  prison. 

He  bore  his  bitter  fate  forabout  a  year  and 


a  half,  when  he,  too,  passed  away. 

The  last  left  was    the   hero  of  this  story, 
Fighting  Pat,  as  his  comrades  preferred  call- 


:  him. 


ruin  and  de 
his  uncle  gone,  sister  and  brother  dead,  and 
the  girl  ot  his  heart  meeting  his  return  with 
a  coldness  that  froze  his  very  soul. 

He  did  not  until  long  after  find  out  the 
ruiu  that  had  been  worked  by  the  villain 
Hynes;  nor  did  he  discover  the  lies  that 
"gentleman  "  invented  to  estrange  his  love 
from  him. 

Shortly  after  a  just  retribution  overtook 
Hynes.  His  cattle  died  i  his  lands  were 
mortgaged;  and  he  finally  became  loaded 
down  with  debt,  and  to  save  his  precious 
carcass  from  a  debtors'  prison  he  had  to  fly 
the  country  for  the  states. 

He  had  been  away  for  some  time  when  the 
young  man  discovered  the  full  extent  of  the 
scoundrel's  duplicity.  Then,  at  the  solicita- 
tion of  Corcoran— hie  mother's  brother— he 
in  due  time  landed  in  New  York,  as  we 
have  already  seen. 

That  is  the  history  of  the  Connemara  fam- 
ily in  a  nutshell. 

But  to  proceed  with  our  story  : 

The  second  night  of  our  hero's  captivity 
the  rumor  spread  that  on  Corcoran's  return 
the  Legion  would  proceed  to  the  seat  of  war. 

At  length,  then  they  would  see  some 
flShting. 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


This  rumor  caused  a  perfect  thrill  to  pass 
through  the  camp. 

The  meu  were  literally  wild  with  enthusi- 
asm ;  and  around  the  camp-fires  that  uight 
the  whole  thing  was  discussed  with  evident 
relish. 

Song,  story,  and  jest  went  round,  with  a 
merrier  ring  than  ever  before,  and  only  for 
one  fact  the  men  would  be  as  happy  as  hap- 
py could  be. 

That  one  thing  seemed  to  some  extent  to 
pall  the  spirits  of  everybody. 

Fighting  Pat  Mooney  was  a  prisoner, 
charged  with  an  offense  the  most  serious 
against  the  military  code. 

An  example  had  to  be  made  in  the  army 
somewhere,  and  why  not  in  his  case? 

Fancy  a  sentinel  committing  a  murderous 
assault  upon  his  superior  officer;  in  fact, 
shooting  at  him  with  intent  to  kill ! 

How  was  this  to  be  met  ? 

By  death,  imluckily— and  it  seemed  as 
though  Fighting  Pat's  career  had  come  to  a 
premature  eud. 

"  Ah !  it  we  had  but  Fightin'  Pat  wid  us,"  ' 
said  our  former  aciiuaintance,  Denny  Byrne, 


whist  wid  yer  Fontenoy!" 
said  big  Barney  Hoolahan.  "  Isltcomparin' 
Southern  jintlemen  yez  are  to  the  dhirty 
Sassenach  y" 

"An'  isn't  the  dhirty  Sassenach  as  good  as 
you,  bad  luck  to  you?"  retorted  f)enny. 
"Ain't  they  great  solgers,  iui'  great  niters, 
an'  what  more  do  you  want  ? " 

The  camp-fire  proceediugs  threatened  to 
wind  up  in  a  row,  when  some  one  restored 
good  humor  by  calling  on  Denny  Byrne  for 
Old  Zoz's  Story,  which  Denny,  however,  al- 
ways gave  as  the  experience  of  his  father. 

**Now,  boys,  pile  on  the  wood!"  said  one 
of  the  guard ;  "  an'  when  we  get  everything 
roarin'  an'  right,  Denny  shall  go  on  with  his 
story." 

A  huge  fire  was  built  up  in  a  twinkling ; 
and  amid  the  roar  of  the  flames  and  the 
laughter  of  his  companions,  Denny  pro- 
ceeded with  what  was  called  Old  Zozimus' 
story,  as  it  was  shrewdly  suspected  that 
Byrne,  notwithstanding  his  assertion  to  the 
contrary,  had  obtained  it  from  that  source 
like  many  a  greater  story-teller. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

DENNV  BYENE'S  STOBY. 


not  a  soldier  ye'U  be  at  all,  but  my 
—to  brush  my  clothes  an'  go  errands,  an' 
the  like  o'  that,  and  the  kmg,  long  life  to 
him,  will  help  to  pay  ye  fur  your  trouble. 
Ye  understand  me?' 

"  Well,  my  father  agreed,  and  Mr.  Barry 
was  as  good  as  his  word. 

"Never  a  guard  did  my  father  mount, 
nor  as  much  as  a  drill  had  he,  nor  a  roll-call, 
nor  anything  at  all,  save  and  except  wait  on 
the  captain,  his  master,  just  as  pleasant  as 
need  be,  and  no  inconvenience  in  lite. 

"  Well,  for  three  years  this  went  on  as  I'm 
tellin',  and  the  regiment  was  ordered  down 
to  Bantry,  because  of  a  report  that  the  boys 
was  rising  down  there ;  and  the  second  even- 
ing there  was  a  night  party  patrolling,  with 
Captain  BaiTy,  for  six  hours  in  the  rain,  and 
the  captain,  God  be  merciful  to  him,  took 
cowld  and  died ;  more  betoken,  they  said  it 
was  drink,  but  my  father  said  it  wasn't. 

"  '  For,'  says  he,  'after  he  tuk  eight  tum- 
blers comfortable,  my  father  mixed  the 
ninth,  and  the  captain  waved  his  hand  this 
way,  as  much  as  to  say  he'd  have  no  more. 

" '  Is  it  that  ye  mean  ?'  says  my  father,  and 
the  captain  nodded. 

" '  Musha,  but  it's  sorry  I  am,'  says  my  fa- 
ther, '  to  see  you  this  way,  for  ye  must  be 
bad  intirely  to  leave  off  in  the  beginning  of 
the  evening.' 

"  And  true  for  him  the  captain  was  dead 
in  the  morning. 

"  A  sorrowful  day  it  was  for  my  father, 
when  he  died ;  it  was  the  finest  place  in  the 
world,  little  to  do,  plenty  of  diversion,  and  a 
kind  man  he  was— when  he  was  scber. 

"  Well,  then,  when  the  captain  was  buried 
and  all  was  over,  my  father  hoped  they'd  be 
for  letting  him  away,  as  he  said : 

"  '  Sure  I'm  no  use  in  life  to  anybody  save 
the  man  that's  gone,  for  his  ways  are  all  1 
know,  and  I  never  was  a  sodger.' 

"  But,  upon  my  conscience,  they  had  other 
thoughts  in  their  heads ;  for  they  ordered 
him  into  the  ranks  to  be  drilled  just  like  the 
recruits  they  took  the  day  before. 

" '  Musha,  isn't  this  hard  ?'  said  my  father; 


' here  I  am  au  ould  vilriu  that  ought  to  be 
discharged  on  a  pension,  with  two  and  six- 
pence a  day,  ol)liged  to  go  capering  about 
the  barrack  yard  practicing  the  goose  steps 
or  some  other  nonsense  not  becoming  my 
age  nor  my  habits ;  but  so  it  was. 

"  Well,  this  went  on  for  some  time,  and, 
sure  if  they  were  hard  on  my  father,  didn't 
behave  his  revenge?  for  he  uigh  broke  their 
hearts  with  his  stupidity :  oil!  nothing  in  life 
could  equal  him;  not  a  thing,  no  matter 
how  easy  he  could  learn  at  all ;  and  so  far 
from  caring  for  him  in  confinement,  it  was 
that  he  liked  best. 

"Every  sergeant  in  the  regiment  had  a 
trial  of  him,  but  all  to  no  good- and  he 
seemed  striving  so  hard  to  learn  all  the  while, 
and  they  were  loath  to  punish  him,  the  old 
rogue ! 

"  This  was  going  on  for  sometime,  when 
one  day  news  came  in  that  a  body  of  the 
rebels,  as  they  called  them,  was  coming 
down  from  the  Gap  of  Mulnavick  to  storm 
the  town  and  burn  all  before  them. 

"  The  whole  regiment  was  of  course  under 


to  scour  the  roads,  and  sentries  posted 
every  turn  of  the  way  and  every  rising 
ground  to  give  warning  when  thelioys  came 
in  sight.  And  my  father  was  placed  at  the 
bridge  of  Diumsnag,  in  the  wildest  and 
bleakest  part  of  the  whole  country  witli 
nothing  but  furze  mountains  on  every  side 
and  a  straight  road  going  over  the  top  of 
them. 

"  'This  is  pleasant,'  says  my  father,  as  soon 
as  they  left  him  there  alone  by  himself, 
with  no  human  creature  to  speak  to,  nor  a 
whisky  shop  within  two  miles  of  him  ;  'cowld 
comfort,'  says  he,  '  on  a  winter's  day;  and 
faix,  but  I've  a  mind  to  give  ye  the  slip.' 

"  Well,  he  put  his  gun  down  on  the  bridge, 
and  he  lighted  his  pipe,  and  he  sat  down 
under  an  ould  tree  and  began  to  ruminate 
upon  his  affairs. 

' '  Ah!  then  it's  wishiu'  it  well  I  am,'  says 


that's  all,'  forhe  was  mighty  low  in  his  heart. 

"Just  then  a  noise  came  rattling  down  near 
him ;  he  listened,  and  before  he  could  get  on 
his  legs  down  comes  the  irt-neral,  ould  Co- 
hoon,  with  an  ovdiv  aftHr  liim. 

'"Who  goes  ;  li,i'.-  .-■  Mi>  ~  my  father. 

"'The  rouiici,  suy~  lii.-  geueral,  looking 
about  all  the  tiuie  t..  Sfi-  where  was  the 
sentry,  for  my  father  was  snug  under  the 
tree. 

" '  What  round  ?"  says  my  father. 

"'The  grand  round,'  says  the  genei-al, 
more  puzzled  than  afore. 

" '  Pass  on,  grand  round,  and  God  save  ye 
kindly,'  says  my  father,  putting  his  pipe  to 
his  mouth  again,  for  he  thought  all  was 
over. 

"  •  Where  are  you  ?'  says  the  general,  for 
sorrow  a  bit  of  my  father  could  he  yet  see. 

'"It's  here  I  am,'  says  he, 'and  a  cowld 
place  I  have  of  it ;  and  if  it  wasn't  for  the 
pipe  I'd  be  lost  intirely.' 

"  The  words  wasn't  well  out  of  his  mouth, 
when  the  general  began  laughing  till  ye'd 
think  he'd  fall  off  his  horse. 

"  And  the  dragoon  behind  him— more  by 
token,  they  say  it  wasn't  right  for  him— 
laughed  as  loud  as  himself. 

"  '  Yer  a  droll  sentry,'  says  the  general,  as 
soon  as  he  could  speak. 

" '  Begorra,  it's  little  fun  there's  left  in 
me,'  says  my  father,  'with  this  drilling  and 
parading  and  thramping  about  the  roads  all 
night.' 

"  '  And  is  this  the  way  you  salute  your  offi- 
cer?' says  the  general. 

" 'Just  so,' says  my  father;  'sorraa  more 
politeness  ever  they  taught  me!' 

"  '  What  regiment  do  you  belong  to?'  says 
the  general. 

"  '  The  North   Cork,'  says  my  father,  with 


fully,    'for,   may  be   they'll   keep    me 

"  '  Well,  my  good  fellow,'  says  the  general, 
•  I  haven't  more  time  to  waste  here ;  but  let 
me  teach  you  something  before  I  go.  When- 
ever your  officer  passes,  it's  your  duty  to 
present  arms  to  him.' 

"'Arrah,  it's  jokin  ye  are!'  says  my 
father. 

"  '  No,  indeed,  I'm  in  earnest,'  says  he,  '  as 
ye  might  learn  to  yer  cost  if  I  brought  ye  to 
a  court-martial.' 

"  The  general  began  to  laugh  again  here, 
but  said  : 

"'I'm  coming  back  here,  and  mind  you 
don't  forget  your  duty  to  your  officer.' 


"'Never  fear,  sir,'  says  my  father,  'and 
many  thanks  to  you  for  your  kindness  in 
tellin'  me.' 

"  Away  went  the  general  and  the  orderly 
aftei  h  m  an  I  m  ten  minutes  they  were  out 
of  sight 

The  n  gl  t  WIS  falling  f a  t  an  I  one  halt 
f  the  m        ta  as     lu  te   dark   already, 

wl  e  1  n  }  f  tl       1      an  t      think    they  were 
f     g  tt        1  V 

HI  w  1    he   looked    an- 

other I  ergeant  s  guard 


The 


fast 


an    dare 


of  an  ho  ir  more,' 
?   1  ght   le  ves    that 

at  says  he  I'll  be 
t  may 

1  nage  was  not 
1  at  1  1 1  e   ee  at  the 


te    th 


dge. 


i  i-Rlge 
ut  thi 


lowe  1 1  \  1 
Myt   tl 
ket    fttl 


e   mounta  n,  fol- 

took  ui  h  s  mus- 
i  1  elts  shook  the 
t  t  in  h  s  pocket, 
n  1  neat  lookin'  as 
e  1  oil  t  ohoon 
IV    t    go  home,  at 


A\  11  1  J  th  t  ne  the  gei  e  al  w  is  turn- 
ng  a  I  II  t  t  the  ft  tl  at  1  ks  down 
i]  on  tl  e  1  1"-  f  nwhe  ^  n  gat  look 
five  m  les    U  a  o       1  on  eve  ■»      le 

He  sees  me  s  ys  ny  1  ithe  I  it  I'll 
be  ]  1  t  as  quick  as  h  i  self 

No  sooner  said  than  lone  foi  coming 
forward  to  the  pai  aj  et  of  the  1  i  dge  he  up 
wid  h  s  m  isket  t  h  s  h  1  lei  au  1  present- 
ed it  straight  at  the  general. 

"It  wasn't  well  there  when  the  officer 
pulled  up  his  horse  quite  short,  and  shouted 
out: 

" '  Sentry— sentry ! ' 

"  '  ^nari /' says  my  father,  still  covering 
him. 

"'Down  with  your  musket,  you  rascal! 
don't  you  see  it's  the  grand  round  ?' 

'"To  be  sure  I  do,'  says  my  father,  never 
changing  for  a  minute. 

"  "iPhe  ruffian  will  shoot  me,'  says  the  gen- 
eral. 

"  '  Not  a  fear,'  says  my  father,  '  av  it  does 
not  go  off  of  itself.' 

"  'What  do  you  mean  by  that,  you  vil- 
lain ?'  says  the  general,  scarce  able  to  speak 
with  fright,  for,  every  turn  he  gave  on  his 
horse,  my  father  followed  with  the  gun. 
'  What  do  you  mean  ?' 

"Sure  ain't  I  piesentin'""  says  my  fa- 
ther; "tare  an' ages!  do  you  want  me  to 
fire  next?" 

"  With  that  the  general  took  a  pistol  from 
his  holster,  and  took  deliberate  aim  at  my 
father. 

"  There  they  both  stood  for  five  minutes, 
lookin'  at  each  other,  the  orderly  all  the 
while  breaking  his  heart  laughing  behind 
the  rock. 

"  For  ye  see,  the  general  knew  av  he  re- 
treated that  my  father  might  fire  on  pur- 
pose, and  if  he  came  ou  that  he  might  fire 
by  chance ;  and  sorra  a  bit  he  knew  what 
was  best  to  he  done. 

'"Are  ye  going  to  pass  the  evening  up 
there,  grand  round?'  says  my  father, 'for 
it's  tired  I  am  getting  houldin'  this  so 
long!' 

"'Port  arms!'  shouted  the  general,  as  if 
on  parade. 

"  '  Sure  I  can't  till  yer  passed,'  says  my  fa- 
ther, angrily,  •  and  my  hands  trembling  al- 
ready.' 

"By  Jove!  I  shall  be  shot,' says  the  gen» 
eral. 

"'Begorra!  it's  what  I'm  afraid  of,' says 
my  father,'  and  the  words  wasn't  well  out 
of  his  mouth  before  off  went  the  musket- 
bang— and  down  went  the  general,  smack  on 
the  ground,  senseless. 

"Well,  the  orderly  ran  out  at  this,  and 
took  him  up  and  examined  his  wound. 

"But it  wasn't  a  wound  at  all,  only  the 
wadding  of  the  gun,  for  my  father— God  be 
kind  to  him— ye  see,  could  do  nothing  right, 
and  so  he  bit  off  the  wrong  end  of  the  cart- 
ridge when  he  put  it  in  the  gun,  and  by 
reason  there  was  no  bullet  in  it. 

"  Well,  from  that  day  after  they  never  got 
sight  of  him,  for  the  instant  the  general 
dropped,  he  sprung  over  the  bridge  wall, 
and  got  away;  and  what  between  livin' in 
lime-kilns  for  two  months,  eating  nothing 
but  blackberries  and  sloes,  and  other  dis. 
guises,  he  never  returned  to  the  arny.  but 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

CORCORAN  ARRIVES. 

Two  or  three  days  more  bad  passed  before 
General  Corcorau  had  got  back  to  eaiop. 

It  «as  the  iiif-'lit  before  the  trial  of  Fight- 
ing Pat,  and.  im'iIuijjs,  it  was  well  for  our 
unfnrtunati'  hirn  that  the  brigadier  had  put 
in  an  apin-arauci-  so  soon. 

The  tirst  thing  that  the  general  was  told 
of,  was  the  arrest  of  his  nephew,  and  the  cir- 
cumstances that  led  to  it. 

Corcoran  was  not  only  astonished  but 
greatly  annoyed  at  what  he  had  heard 


count  of  the  renconter  : 

"  Mahon,  1  tear  tliere  is  something  more  in 
this  than  I  see  at  piesent.  I  know  a  little  of 
Hynes,  and  that  little  not  very  much  to  his 
credit.  He  was  at  first  to  have  joined  our 
corps,  but  changed  his  mind  the  moment  he 
heard  my  nephew  was  to  enter  it;  and  be- 
tween you  and  me.  I  am  not  son-y  for  his 
decision— for,  plainly  speaking,  I  do  not  like 
the  man  a  whit." 

"  Toil  are  not  alone  there,   general,"  re- 

Elied  Major  Mahon.  "Some  of  the  boys 
ere,  who  knew  him  in  New  York,  give  him 
a  pretty  hard  name." 

"  1  think  he  deserves  it,  for  what  on  earth 
could  Moouey  have  against  him  ?  I  have 
certainly  heard  some  queer  stories,  but 
never  a  word  from  mj'  nephew  about  the 
fellow." 

"Simply  because  he  is  not  in  the  habit  of 
speaking  about  people  behind  their  backs," 
rejoined  Maliou,  warmly.  "However,  I 
think  it  would  be  well  to  investigate  this 
matter  at  once." 

"He  is  to  be  tried,  you  say,  by  a  general 
court-martial?" 

"Yes." 

"  Then,  In  that  case,  we  must  make  quick 
work  of  it.  The  great  military  lights,"  pro- 
ceeded Corcoran,  "are  determined  to  stamp 
this  kind  of  thing  out,  and  poor  Pat  may  be 
the  first  to  suffer  for  his  impudence." 

"It  is  a  serious  offense  to  be  sure,"  said 
Mahon,  reflectively. 

"  Couldn't  be  more  so.  An  offense  just 
now  punishable  with  death." 

■  1  am  Tt'i  y  glad  you  have  got  back,  how- 
ever." said  Mahnn;  "  very  glad,  indeed." 

"Not  more  than  I  myself  am.  The  lad 
must  be  saved  come  what  will,"  added  the 
general,  more  to  himself  than  to  the  ofBcer 
with  whom  he  had  been  speaking. 
"Mahon!"  he  ejaculated,  suddenly. 

"Yes.  general." 

"  \Vill  ynii  asrt-rtaiu  whereabouts,  while  I 
visit  tills  impudent  nephew  of  mine." 

"Certainly,  general.  I  will  do  it  at  once, 
1  presume  I  will  find  you  at  vour  quartei-s?" 

"No;  I  think  not.  Say  yon  call  at  the 
grand  tent  in  about  twenty  minutes  or  half 
an  hour  from  uow.  as  m'y  interview  with 
Moouey  may  in  all  iii-nl)abiUty  last  that 
time,  1  mean  jirobing  tliis  matter  to  the 
bottom,  and  il  niv  gephew  is  in  fault  let 
him  bear  the  launt;  tliafsall." 

"1  think  v,.u  will  lind  the  boot  on  the 
other  leg,"  .-aid    Maliou,  laughing;  "and,  in 

General  Conoraii  n-lli-i  ted  profoundly  for 
a  couple  or  miuulos;  tlieji  he,  too,  left  the 
spot,  and  made  In]- til"  iiuard  tent  wherein 
Fighting  Pat  was  idiiliiied,  a  prisoner. 

At  the  ai>proa.  li  i.i  ih,.  general  the  guard 
turned  out  and  ]ir.senled  arms,  as  they  were 


euant.' 


11-   i'ii>oner— or.  perhaps, 
111   Olio  inside  there'/"  he 


added,  iiui. 

Ho  wa><  -laliliod,  bo«over,  to  learn  that 
Fighting  Pat  was  ilio  only  one  confined  in 
the  guard-tent  sinoe  bis  departure. 

"  That  speaks  well  for  the  discipline  of  the 
liCgion,"  said  Corcoran,  laughing,  "and  how 
does  Mooney  take  this  restriction  on  his 
liberty?" 

"  As  well,  general,  as  can  be  expected," 
replied  the  lieutenant.  "  Come  and  see  for 
yourself." 

Throwing  the  canvas  of  the  tent   aside, 


was  lighted  by  a  solitary  lamp,  barely  se 
ing,  however,  to  dissipa'te  the  gloom. 

They  found  the  prisoner  stretched  out  on 
a  couple  of  army  blankets— half-dozing, 
half-dreaming,   perhaps,  of  the  little  green 


isle,  which  he  had  quitted  but  a  few  short 
months  before. 

It  was  evident  that  he  did  not  hear  the 
approach  of  the  two  officers,  and  it  was  not 
till  the  lieutenant  had  called  him  by  name 
that  he  responded. 

Then  he  leaped  quickly  to  his  feet  and 
stood  confronting  his  commander. 

It  did  not  for  a  moment  occur  to  Fighting 
Pat  to  take  advantage  of  the  relationship 
existing  between  himself  and  Corcoran. 

He  stood,  instead,  to  attention,  and  saluted 
respectfully,  as  might  auy  other  soldier  of 
the  command. 

"You  may  go  now,  Liieutenant  O'Reilly," 
said  Corcoran.  "  I  wish  to  speak  with  the 
prisoner  alone  for  a  few  moments." 

The  young  officer  touched  his  hat,  and  in- 
stantly left  the  guard-tent. 

When  they  were  alone,  Corcoran  said : 

"  Can  you  explain  this,  Pat?" 

"  What,  general?" 

"The  unfortunate  scrape  I  find  you  in. 
This  is  very  serious." 

"  I  know  that,  general." 

"  It  is  singularly  unlucky  at  such  a  time," 
proceeded  Corcoran.  "  I  suppose  you  have 
heard  we  are  about  to  go  to  the  front?" 

Fighting  Pat  still  stood  to  attention. 

"  You  need  stand  no  longer  that  way,  Pat. 
We  are  alone.  Now,  tell  me  all  about  your 
affair  with'  Hynes.  The  man  charges  you 
with  having  pulled  trigger  on  him." 

"  Yes,  that  is  his  charge,  general,"  replied 
Pat. 

"Is  it  true?"  said  Corcoran,  with  some 
severity. 

"What  would  you  think,  general?" 

"  I  heard  it  to-night  for  the  first  time,  and 
could  not  believe  my  ears,"  was  the  reply. 

"  I  am  very  glad  o"f  that." 

"  But  did  you,  or  did  you  not  shoot  at  the 
man  ?"  asked  Corcoran,  in  a  stern  tone. 
"You  know  the  rules  of  the  service,  I  pre- 


"  Well  that,  general.  I,  however,  respect- 
fully ask  you  one  question."  ' 

"Put  it." 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  of  my  stooping  to  a 
falsehood  ?"  said  the  young  man,  in  earnest 
tones. 

"Never." 

"  I  thank  you  for  that ;  and  now  I  will  an- 
swer you.    I  did  not  shootatMajor  Hynes !" 

The  last  sentence  Fighting  Pat  emphasized, 
solemnly." 

"You  did  not?" 

"I  did  not." 

"Then  the  man  brings  a  false  charge 
against  you?" 

"Even  so." 

"  Why  did  you  not  say  this  at  your  pre- 
liminary examination?"  demanded  Corcor- 
an, somewhat  puzzled. 

"  I  was  waiting." 

"For  what?" 

"  For  my  principal  examination.' 

"The  general  court-martial?" 

"Yes." 

"  Humph!"  grunted  Corcoran.  "You  are 
a  cool  fellow,  I  must  say.  The  result  of  that 
court-martial  might  have  been  your  death. 
■You  must  be  aware  of  that,  surely  ?" 

"  I  was,  and  am,"  said  the  young  man. 

The  general,  for  a  minute  or  two,  strode 
up  and  down  the  tent,  excitedly. 

It  was  evident,  even  to  himself,  that  he 
understood  little  of  his  nephew's  character. 
At  last  he  paused  suddenly,  and  faced  the 
young  soldier  once  more. 

"  You  did  not  fire  at  Major  Hynes,  then  ?" 

"  t^ertaiiily  not." 

"  Then  his  evidence  was  lies,  from  begin- 
ning to  end?" 

"To  a  certain  extent,  yes." 

"  And  your  rifle?" 

"  Was  discharged  accidentally." 

"  Did  you  not  assault  him  ?"  pursued  Cor- 
coran. 

"  Yes,  after  he  had  grossly  insulted  me." 

"AVe  are  coming  near  to  the  bottom  at 
last,"  said  the  general,  laughing.  "  Pray  ex- 
plain alias  brietiy  as  yon  can— conceal  noth- 
ing, and  if  it's  possible  to  save  you  it  shall 
be  done." 

Fighting  Pat  thus  urged,  briefly  recapitu- 
lated that  which  is  alreadj^  known  to  the 
reader. 

Corcoran  listened  with  profound  attention, 
and  as  he  learned  the  trutli  of  the  encounter 
between  his  nephew  and  Hynes,  his  indigna- 
tion was  nich  getting  the  better  of  him. 

Whatever  he  was  about  to  say  was  inter- 
rupted by  the  entrance  of  Major  Mahone. 

The  young  officer  perceiving  uncle  and 
nephew  still  engaged,  was  about  to  leave  the 
tent,  when  the  general  beckoned  him  to 
come  forward. 

"  Have  you  found  him  ?"  he  asked. 


"Eh?" 

"I  repeat  it.  Major  Mahon,  Hynes  is  an  in- 
fernal  scoundrel!" 

"  Ah,  general, "  said  Mahon,  with  a  sly 
■wink,  "please  tell  us  something  we  don't 
know." 

"Where  is  he  uow?" 

"Who— Hynes?" 

"  Enjoying  himself  to  the  top  of  his  bent 
at  Courtenay's  quarters.  He's  as  merry  as 
you  please,  smoking  and  drinking  wine  at 
poor  Courtenay's  expense." 

"  Courtenay,  at  least,  is  a  gentleman,"  said 
Corcoran. 

"  Quite  true,  general,  quite  true."  said  Ma- 
hon, "and  that,  perhaps,  is  one  of  the  rea- 
sons that  he  is  so  easily  imposed  upon  by  a 
blackguard  like  Hynes.  By  my  soul,"  con- 
tinued the  youthful  major,  "  there  is  noth- 
ing in  the  world  that  would  give  me  more 
pleasure  than   to  kick   the  villain   out  of 


"  I  go  with  you,  then?" 
"Yes." 


Then  turning  to  his  nephew,  he  bade  him 
be  of  good  heart,  and  left  the  tent,  followed 
by  his  suliordinate. 

On  the  way  to  Courtenay's  quarters.  Gen- 
eral Corcoran  briefly  related  Mooney 's  story 
as  told  him  a  few  minutes  before. 

When  he  had  finished,  he  said  : 

"  My  nephew,  under  other  circumstances, 
would  have  been  justified  in  acting  as  he 
had  done;  but  there  is  no  excuse  for  a  sen- 
try assaulting  his  superior  officer,  and  such, 
I  take  it,  will  be  the  verdict  at  to-morrow's 
court-martial." 

"  I  am  afraid,  general,  you  are  right,"  said 
Mahon. 

"  Now  the  question  is  what  Is  to  be  done," 
said  Corcoran.  "  I  can  only  see  one  way  out 
of  the  difficulty." 

"And  that  is  to  prevent  this  fellow  from 
attending  the  court-martial." 

"  I  understand.  We  must  get  him  out  of 
the  way." 

"Decidedly." 

"And  that  is  to  be  done?" 

"  In  this  wise — and  I  think  the  plan  will 
be  a  good  one.  We  must  make  this  ruffian 
take  water " 

"  Treat  him  to  the  Potomac?" 

"Not  quitetliat,"said  Corcoran, laughing; 
"although  the  sooner  he's  on  the  other  side 
of  it,  the  lietter  will  it  lie  for  his  skin.  We 
must  make  the  villain  fight." 

"You  can  count  on  me  every  time,  gen- 
eral." 

"But  I  was  going  to  say  that  he  won't 
fight." 

"Then  he'll  run.  I  see  the  drift.  We 
must  get  rid  of  him.  When  the  court-mar- 
tial assembles,  the  accuser  will  be  absent." 

"Exactly  so." 

"  Leave  the  matter  to  me.  I  give  you  my 
word,  general,  as  a  gentleman,  that  Mr. 
Hynes  will  make  himself  scarce  before  to- 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

FIGHTINU  PAT  BECOMES  A  SCOPT. 

A'oices  proceeded  from  the  tent,  and  it 
seemed,  indeed,  as  if  Jerry  Hjmes  was  en- 
joying himself  to  the  top  of  his  bent. 

"Hear  the  blackguard,"  said  Major  Ma- 
hon. "One  would  think  that  he  was  the 
happiest  crayture  in  the  world.  By  the 
powers  but  he's  fooling  poor  Courtenay 
nicely.  1  tliink  I  had  better  go  in  and  an- 
nounce you,  general." 

"  Slav  a  moment."  said  Corcoran.  "  'What 
plan  of"  action  have  you  hit  on?" 

"You  will  see  that  in  good  time.  Now 
don't  say  anothor  word,  but  leave  the  rest 

"  "W-ry  well,  "  replied  the  brigadier;  "but 
above  a"ll  things,  act  discreetly." 

"How?" 

"I  mean  don't  allow  your  plan  to  mis- 
carry." 

"'Trust  me  for  that.  Here  goes,"  and 
Major  Mahon,  without  ceremony,  disap- 
peared within  the  folds  of  Courtenay's  tent. 

He  was  not  gone  more  than  a  few  minutes 
when  he  returned. 

" It  is  all  right,"  he  said,  "and  now,  gen- 
ei-al,  if  you  permit  me,  I  will  lead  the  way." 

General  Corcoran  followed  Mahon  into  the 
tent. 

The  interior  was  lit  by  four  or  five  big  wax 
candles,  and  the  tent,  in  other  respects,  was 
quite  comfortably  furnished. 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


for  tlie 


well  known  in  the  Irish  Legion  that 


aetiye  service,  and  who,  for  that,  and  no 
other  reason  had  joined  Corcorau's  com- 
mand. 

He  had  been  a  lieutenant  in  the  English 
army,  got  tired  of  it,  and,  having  disposed  of 
his  commission,  had  come  to  this  countrv-. 

For  what  purpose? 

Simply  to  see  service  in  the  field. 

Just  as  Corcorau  entered,  Ca|itaiu  Courte- 
nay  had  opened  a  bottle  of  otmmpnfrne.  niid 
there  were  indicationsdf  the  l:ii  t  that  iitlieis 
had  been  opened  prior  ti>  hi>  i  ..inin-. 

Major  Jerry  Hyiies   wa.^   smokini;    oi.c   d 
the  captain's  fiueVigais, 
installed  himself  very 
evening. 

His  face  was  flushed  as  if  he  had  drunk 
deeply,  and  it  appeared,  from  the  rapid 
glance  that  Corcoran  had  given  him,  that  he 
was  not  over  pleased  with  the  fact  of  seeing 
either  him  or  Major  Mabon. 

He  tried  to  look  pleasant,  however, 
Courtenay  got  up,  and  after  welcoming  his 
two  visitors,  pressed  upon  them  to  partake 
of  what  was  going. 

"I  have  plenty  of  seats,  gentlemen;  so 
make  yourselves  at  home,"  he  said.  "I 
would  advise  you.  general,  to  try  a 
glass  of  this  excellent  brand— best  I've 
tasted  this  side  of  the  Atlantic.  And  you, 
major,  allow  me  to  help  you  to  a  good  cigar. 
Don't  stir,  Hyues;  you  are  all  right.  Pray 
be  seated,  gentlemen.  And  so  we  are  to 
move  to  the  frout,  general?" 

"  I  uuderstaud  that  to  be  the  order,  cap- 
tain.    Very  excellent  wine,  indeed." 

"  This  cigar  is  quite  a  treat,"  said  Mahon. 

"  Pleased  to  hear  j-ou  say  so,  major.  Have 
another  glass  of  champagne :  not  a  headache 
in  a  dozen  bottles  of  it,  I  assure  you.  Won't, 
eh  ?  Sorry  for  that.  As  I  was  telling  Major 
Hynes  here,  we'll  be  in  the  deuce  of  a  fix  for 
want  of  the  necessaries  when  we  get  into 
campaigning  trim.  It  will  be  then  salt  junk 
and  hard  tack.  Ah!  ha!  come,  general,  let 
me  fill  your  glass  for  you  again.  Excuse 
me,  Hynes,  old  fellow:  I'm  afraid  I've  tread 
on  your  corns." 

""Ahem!  No,  you  haven't,"  said  Hynes, 
leering   round    him.     "No    fear   of   that 


haven't  any  to  tread  on ;  so  there's  where 
you  are  out.    Ah,  ha!" 

"  Hynes,  I'll  wager  that  you  have  vorns," 
said  Mahon.  "  I'll  wager  that  you  have  even 
bunions." 

"  Eh— eh !"  said  Hynes.    "  What's  that  ?" 

Mahon  repeated  what  he  had  said,  and  in 
such  a  manner  that  there  was  no  mistaking 
but  that  he  meant  to  be  offensive;  and 
Jerry's  brain  was  not  so  clouded  but  he 
could  see  it. 

"Repeat  that  again,  sir!"  said  Hynes, 
fiercely,  as  he  rolled  his  eye  defiantly  around 
the  tent. 

"Egad,  that's  capital !"  cried  Courtenay, 
whose  brains  were  getting  a  little  too  mud- 
dled to  perceive  that  there  was  anything 
wrong  in  his  bellicose  attitude. 

"  Capital— capital ! "  reiterated  Courtenay. 
"Don't  spare  him,  Hynes;  let  him  have  it, 
old  man !" 

"  I  request  that  you  repeat  that  again,  sir," 
said  Hvues,  more  furiously  than  ever. 

"I  also  make  the  assertion  that  you  have 
two  ugly  carbuncles  on  your  nose,  and  that 
you  wear  false  teeth,"  said  Mahon.  "Not 
only  that,  sir,  but  oracular  demonstration 
will  prove  that  your  calves  are  padded." 

This  was  getting  beyond  a  joke. 

Major  Hyues  flew  forward  just  in  time  to 
get  about  half  a  glass  of  wine  in  his  face. 

This  completely  sobered  him. 

Even  the  muddled  captain  could  not  fail 
but  understand  the  insult. 

Major  Hynes  howled  with  rage;  Courtenay 
cried,  "  Shame — shame!"  General  Corcoran 
said  nothing,  but  looked  on,  an  interested 
spectator. 

"This  calls  for  blood!"  yelled  Major 
Hynes,  beside  himself  with  rage. 

"You  need  not  go  very  far  to  get  that," 
said  Mahon,  coolly.  "  If  you  want  satisfac- 
tion, I  am  the  man  to  give  it  to  you." 

"Allow  me  to  second  you,  major,"  said 
Coii  rtenay. 

"  I'll  act  for  Mahon,"  said  Corcoran;  "and 
if  Captain  Courtenay  has  no  objection,  the 
affair  may  as  well  be  settled  here  as  any- 
where else." 

"No  objection  in  the  least,  unless  the 
space  is  too  limited,"  replied  Courtenay. 
"  AVith  your  permission,  gentlemen,  I 
will  now  produce  the  pistols ;  and,  I  may 
say,  they  are  perfect  beauties  in  their  line— 
as  fine  a  brace  of  dueling  pistols  as  ever  man 
clapped  eyes  on." 

Hynes  turned  deathly  pale. 


Corcoran  saw  in  a  moment  that  there  was 
no  fight  in  him,  but  allowed,  nevertheles, 
he  captain  to  produce  the  "beauties,"  as  he 
called  them. 

"  It  would  be  murder  to  fight  here,"  stam- 
mered Hynes. 
I  "Not  at  all,  mv  dear  sir," said  Courte- 
nay. "The  fact  is,  you  couldn't  fight  in  a 
better  place.  You  liavi'  most  excellent  light 
I  from  the  wax  .  aihilrs.  Termit  me  to  place 
I  you;  or  will  y^n  te-~  im-  places?" 

"I  tell  you  I  \\Miit  ii^lit  here,"  said  Hynes, 
desperately,  ■■  It  was  alia  mistake  anyhow 
I  iTiely  panlon  ilie  ^eatlemau  for  carrying 

■■  \\'lial  :"  I  lied  I  eiir  wnaj-,  hardly  believ- 
iii.L'ili;it  he  heard  ari;^lit.  "  do  you  call  it  a 
joke,  sir,  to  throw  i  lie  eoutents  of  a  cham. 
pagneglass  in  your  lace?" 

"The  major  didn't  mean  it  other  than  as 
a  practical  joke,  I  am  sure,"  said  Hynes. 

"There's  where  you  are  in  error,  Major 
Hyues,"  said  Mahou.  "Idhl  mean  it;  s< 
make  no  mistake  with  reirard  to  it." 

"Of  course  vou  meant  it,  sii',"said  Courte- 
nay. "What!  will  you  uot  fight  after  his 
avowal  that  he  did  n'leaii  it?" 

"I  will  not,  "  stauiiuereil  Jerry,  turning 
the  hue  of  a  dirt\-  green  in  the  face. 

"Then  the  soouer  you  bid  good-by  to  the 
army  the  better,"  sneered  Captain  Courte- 
nay. "  For  myself,  I  have  nothing  more  to 
say  to  you." 

^'Now  let  mel  give  you  a  piece  of  ad- 
vice. Major  Hynes,"  said  Mahon,  "and  that 
is  to  clear  from  Washington  and  its  neigh- 
borhood as  soon  as  you  can.  If  I  catch  you 
anywhere  withlu  tweuty  miles  of  this  by 
sunrise  to-morrow  I'll  shoot  you  on  sight." 

They  allowed  the  crestfallen  major  to 
slink  out  of  the  tent.  Then  both  Mahon  and 
Corcoran  made  ample  apologies  to  Courtenay 
for  their  manner  of  treating  his  guest.  Not 
only  did  they  do  this,but  they  very  satisfac- 
torily explained  the  cause  of  their  thus  act-- 
ing. 

We  need  not  say  that  Mahon's  plan  work- 
ed well. 

It  worked  even  better  than  they  had  ex- 
pected; for  at  the  general  court-martial 
next  day,  the  accuser,  Hynes,  failed  to  put 
in  an  appearance. 

This  resulted,  as  it  happened,  in  the  release 
of  Fighting  Pat. 

The  day  following  the  liberation  of 
Mooney,  the  Legion  crossed  the  Potomac,  en 
route  for  the  seat  of  war. 

After  many  little  skirmishes  and  attacks 
by  the  enemy.  Fighting  Pat  was  selected  as 
a  scout,  and  with  him,  a  lively  young  fellow 
named  Frank  O'Mahoney,  and  Denny  Byrne. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

FIGHTING   PAT'S   DAKING   EXPLOIT. 

"Bedad,  '  said  Denny  Byrne,  "I  don't 
know  what  to  make  of  this  scoutin' at  all. 
It  seems  to  be  all  kicks  an'  no  ha'pence,  as 
they  say  in  the  ould  country." 

"Well,  what's  the  use  grumbling,"  said 
Frank  O'Mahoney.  "So  far  you've  come  out 
pretty  lucky.  You  haven't  lost  a  leg  or  an 
arm,  an  eye  or  an  ear,  so  you  may  think 
yourself  fortunate.    What  do  yon  say,  Pat?" 

"I  think  with  you,  Frank.  Our  friend 
has  nothing  to  complain  of  yet.  We  have 
circumvented  the  graycoats  with  better 
success  than  could  have  been  expected.  Be- 
sides, we  haven't  gone  twelve  hours  without 
food  in  seven  or  eight  days.  Then  why 
gi-umble?  You  know  the  old  saying,  Den- 
ny—'  It's  time  enough  to  bid  the  devil  good 
morning  when  you  meet  him.*  " 

"There's  no  denyin'  that,"  replied  Denny. 
"  But  can  you  tell  me  what  is  the  good  of  all 
this  thrampin'  round  the  counthry  ?  There's 
the  graycoats  here  to-day,  an'  there  to-mor- 
row—an' aren't  we  thesame?  It's  like  hide- 
an'-seek  for  all  the  world,  an'  the  more  I  see 
of  it  the  less  I  like  it." 

" But  jour  father  before  you  didn't  like 
soldiering,  Denny,"  said  Frank,  laughing. 
"  "  man  that  smokes  a  pipe  doing  sentinel 
duty  over  a  magazine  is   much    better  in 


;?" 

"Why  your  father,  didn't  he?' 

"Who  towld  ye  that flamer ?" 
Denny,  tartly. 

"Why  yourself." 

"  Meself— and  when  ?" 

"  Why,  one  night  when  you  were  three 
sheets  in  the  wind." 

"  I  don't  recollect  the  sarcumstanoe ;  and 
I  must  have  been  more  than  four  sheets  in 
the  wind  to  have  forgotten  it." 

"Hist!"  said  Fighting  Pat,  suddenly. 

"  What  is  it?"  asked  Byi-ne. 


"Hist!    I  say!" 

The  foregoing  conversation  occurred  about 
two  weeks  subsequent  to  the  incidents 
chronicled  in  our  last  chapter. 

Fighting  Pat  and  his  companions  had  been 
on  a  two  days'  scouting  expedition  for  the 
purpose  of  obtaining  some  knowledge  of  the 
movements  of  the  Confederates,  who  were 
believed  to  be  in  considerable  force  in  the 
neighborhood. 

Up  to  this  time  they  had  had  some  very  ' 
narrow  runs  for  it,  and  on  three  or  four  oc- 
casions had  barelj;  escaped  capture. 

They  owed  their  escape  to  the  coolness 
and  presence  of  mind  of  their  young  leader. 

They  were  in  the  act  of  passing  through  a 
dense  piece  of  woodland  toward  the  evening 
of  the  second  day  when  Pat's  warning 
brought  them  to  a  sudden  halt. 

"What's  the  matter?"  asked  Frank. 

"Not  a  word,"  said  Pat,  "  but  dismount 
as  quietly  as  you  can." 

"  There's  some  one  in  the  wood!" 

"  Yes." 

"  Your  hearin'  is  better  than  mine,"  said 
Denny,  "  for  sorra  a  thing  I  can  hear  at  all." 

Fighting  Pat  gestured  him  to  silence,  and 
then  they  all  leaped  to  the  ground. 

For  a  moment  or  two  they  listened  in- 
tently. 

There  could  be  no  mistaking  the  fact- 
there  were  some  persons  in  the  wood  beside 
themselves,  whether  friends  or  enemies  re- 
mained to  be  seen. 

It  might  be  some  of  their  own  men  ;  but 
more  likely  a  body  of  Confederates. 

It  behooved  them,  therefore,  to  act  with 
great  caution. 

"  We  cannot  go  any  further  in  this  direc- 
tion," said  Pat  Mooney,  "until  wefindout 
with  whom  we  have  to  deal.  Remain  here 
both  of  you,  until  I  see." 

"You  expose  yourself  to  too  much  dan- 
ger," remonstrated  Frank.  "  Just  let  rn-c  eo 
this  once,  will  you  ?" 

"No— no;  keep  your  eye  skinned,  that's 
all.     I'll  return  all  right,  depend  upon  it." 

Darkne,-!3  liad  already  descended  on  the 
gloomy  forest,  and  after  listening  for  a  min- 
ute silently  and  intently,  Fighting  Pat  stole 
hke  a  shadow  along  the  path. 

Deeper  and  deeper  he  plunged  into  the  in- 
tricacies of  the  wood. 

He  pioceeded  as  cautiously  as  an  Indian 
picking  up  the  trail  of  an  enemy. 

Every  now  and  then  he  stopped  to  listen, 
so  as  to  make  sure  of  the  exact  direction 
whence  the  sounds  came. 

He  never  moved  without  making  sure  of 
this  fact. 

Another  thing  he  did  not  lose  sight  of  was 
the  path  by  which  he  had  come,  as  it  would 
be  no  very  pleasant  matter  to  him  to  lose  his 
comrades,  who  might  watch  and  wait  for 
him  in  vaiu  had  he  not  taken  this  precaution. 

Fighting  Pat  had  so  far  proved  himself  an 

able^ ^  --■■' ■       •    - 

tige  i 

Iti 

can  l^e  conveyed  amid  the  solemn  stillness  of 
a  wilderness  of  timber  and  undergrowth. 

The  sounds  at  first  seemed  to  recede  from 
him.  theu  grew  louder,  till  he  was  finally  as- 
sured that  he  had  struck  the  right  path. 

"1  shouldn't  be  surprised,"  murmured  Pat 
to  himself,  "to  find  the  enemy  in  force  in 
the  direction  I  am  going.  I  must  now  act 
with  the  greatest  caution,  or  I  may  get  over- 
hauled myself." 

On  and  on  he  went,  deeper  and  deeper  into 
the  recesses  of  the  wood. 

Finally  he  pulled  up  quite  suddenly. 

A  red  glare  Of  light  flashed  in  his  eyes. 

It  came  so  suddenly  upon  him  that  he 
dropped  flat  upon  his  face,  fearing  he  might 
have  been  seen. 

Such  was   not    the    case,   however,  as  he 


quickly  found  out. 

"It  IS  as  I  thougui,,    muttered  i'lgntlng 
Pat;  "  I've  dropped  on  an  encampment  of 


as  I  thought,"  muttered  Fighting 

the  enemy." 

The  truth  was  he  had  come  to  a  glen  in  the 
very  heart  of  the  forest;  and  in  the  center 
of  the  glen  was  a  huge  camp-fire,  around 
which  were  seated,  in  various  attitude*, 
about  tweuty  or  thirty  rebels. 

This  was  no  doubt  only  a  portion  of  the 
force  who  were  encamped  in  the  glen,  for 
numerous  indications  pointed  to  three  time* 
that  number. 

His  second  discovery  was  that  the  men  oc- 
cupying  this  great  open  space  in  the  forest 
were  part  and  parcel  of  a  band  of  guerrillas. 

"  The  brigands  of  the  Confederacy,"  mut. 
tered  the  scout.  "  No  w,  I  have  every  respect 
for  the  valor  of  the  regulars,  but  none  for 
these  fellows.    I  wish  to  Heaven  I  could  giv« 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


smoking,  and  seemed  to   be  enioyins  them- 
5H'vt-s  right  merrily." 

Fishtifig  Pat's  quick  mind  was  at  work. 

He  would  dearly  like  to  give  them  a  fright. 

v,.w  liow  ic.ultl  he  do  it  without  imperil- 


siL'ht  .)t  a  la 
no  doubt   fi 

"Just  the  Tery  thing."  he  muttered.  "If 
I  Pan  only  get  to  them  without  being  seen, 
I'll  gire  them  a  rare  old  SL^are,  one  which 
thev  won't  forget  in  a  hurry." 

We  have  witnessed  a  little  already  of 
Fighting  Pat's  fearless  and  intrepid  charac- 

In  fact  he  was  a  man  who  courted  danger 
for  thi'sake  at  overcoming  it. 

Till' yomi;;  ^.oiit'.s  object  was  to  steal  to- 
waid  th.'  pill-  of  hand  grenades  without  be- 
ing oIiscimmI— a  task  let  it  be  understood  not 
attended  witliout  considerable  risk. 

The  huge  camp-fire  lit  the  glen  up  with  .il- 
mostthe  brilliancy  of  day,  aud  before  the 
scout  could  even  reach  tlie  heap  of  deadly 
missiles  a  shot  from  one  of  the  gueri-illas 
might  put  a  stop  to  him  and  his  acts  of  dar- 
ing forever. 

This  was  what  he  had  to  consider. 

Of  course  he  hoped  to  be  able  to  surprise 
them  and  niak.'liis  c.-capein  time  to  rejoin 
bis  companinii,  to  -ho  the  alarm. 

Was  it  piiidcn;  (..tliii-  imperil  his  and  his 
com^alU■^■  t-afct:'  :' 

For  a  moiiiciit  In-  hesitated. 

Indecision,  however,  lasted  but  a  short 
time  with  one  of  his  nature. 

"  I'll  chance  it !  "  was  his  mental  ejacula- 

In  another  instant  he  would  have  stolen  in 
the  direction  of  the  hand  grenades. 

But  hold  ! 

There  was  a  stir  on  the  other  side  of  the 
glen— a  confused  commingling  of  voices- 
then  a  tramp  of  feet — some  one  was  ap- 
proaching. 

The  voices  grew  louder,  the  steps  heavier, 
theu  half  a  dozen  heavily  bearded  men 
emerged  from  out  of  the  darkness  iuto  the 
lurid  reflection  cast  by  the  flames  of  the 
crackling  logs  and  brush. 

As  the  new-comers  came  nearer  a  sudden 
exclamation,  almost  loud  enough  to  betray 
his  pii'SHiic, ,  l.ni>t  from  the  scout's  lips. 

What  !,a.i -ausfdit? 


luiiform  of  a  Federal 
I— tliiswas  brigandish 
laitook  largely  of  the 


Had  the  gallant  Jerry  turned  guerrilla 
theu  ? 

Had  he  deserted  the  Federal  i-anks  ? 

That  he  was  not  a  prisoner  was  evident,  as 
he  seemed  to  be  on  the  most  friendly  terms 
with  the  new  arrivals  as  well  as  with  those 
at  the  camp-flre. 

Nor  did  he  even  attempt  to  disguise  his 
name  or  rank  ou  Meagher's  brigade. 

"The  infernal  villam  will  end  by  betray- 
ing his  brave  commander  if  I  don't  put  a 
stop  to  his  game,"rautteredtbescouttohim- 
self.  •■  I  wdl  listen  flrst  to  what  he  has  to 
:to 
I  only  take 

the  rascal  prisoner  I  should  esteem  it  the 
biggest  night's  work  of  my  life.  But  that, 
under  the  circumstances,  is  impossible.  80 
I  must  content  mvsnlf  with  hearing  what  he 
hastosav.' 

"  Well,"  nia  1-1.  a-  you  have  come  from  the 
camp  of  flh- A  .inks  pi'iiiaps  you  can  tell  us 
where  Meagluiaiid  (  ,,iconin''are,  and  what 
they  are  about  V"  said  the  leader  of  the  guer- 
rillas. 

"  I  can  give  you  all  the  information  on 
that  head  you  want,"  answered  Hyues. 

"  Then  go  ahead." 

"I  intended  it  for  you  privately.  Who 
knows  but  there  may  be  spies  listening  to 
us." 

"  Oh,  I  think  you  may  rest  your  mind  easy 
on  that  score."  said  the  guerrilla  chief,  a  big 
black-bearded  man  of  a  sinister-looking 
countenance. 

"I'd  rather  not  leave  anything  to  chance." 

"Perhaps  you  are  right." 

"  I  have  seen  the  result  of  so  many  failures 
insequence.    Come  this  way  and  I'll  tell 


yo'i 


Very  good." 

The  two  men  nc 
from  the  camp-fiiv 
conversing  earnest  I  v  tn^n  n,,  1 . 

Of  course  Fightiii-  I 'iit  li.  ard  not  a  word 
of  what  was  said,  Mhiih,  the  1  (H'ler  may  be 
Stire,  considerably  angered  him. 


As  it  would  be  out  of  the  question  to  move 
from  where  he  was  to  follow  the  two  men, 
he  awaited  quietly  their  return  to  the  camp- 
flre. 

"  I  have  been  foiled  in  onething,"  said  Pat 
to  himself;  "but  I'll  wager  that  some  of 
them  will  pay  dear  for  it.  And  now  comes 
the  time  for  action. 

The  time  for  action  had  indeed  come. 

Major  Hynes  and  the  chief  of  the  guerril- 
las having  got  through  their  conversation 
had  returned  to  the  camp-flre. 

All  eyes  at  the  moment  were  flxed  with  a 
look  of  inquiry  on  them. 

Now  was  Fighting  Pat's  time;  while  the  at- 
tention of  the  guerrillas  was  distracted,  he 
could  easily  possess  himself  of  one  or  two  of 
the  destructive  hand  grenades,  and  dashing 
into  the  glen  scatter  death  and  destruction 
among  them. 

He  did  not  now  wait  to  consider  the  conse- 
quences. 

His  blood  was  up,  and  some  one  must 
sulTer. 

With  a  single  spring  he  was  in  the  glen, 
aud  the  next  moment  he  had  secured  one  of 
those  awful  instruments  of  war. 

Then  like  a  flash  he  cleared  the  interven- 
ing space,  hurling  the  hand  grenade  into  the 
center  of  the  roaring  camp-fire. 

"  Death  to  the  guerrillas  !"  he  shouted,  in 
a  voice  as  clear  as  the  blast  of  a  cavalry 
trumpet. 

There  was  an  explosion  of  tremendous 
force,  the  flaming  brands  were  scattered 
right  and  left,  aud  without  waiting  to  see 
the  deadly  effect  of  his  daring  act  he  had 


We 


tos 


he  threw 
It  bad 
and  CODS 
rillas;  la 
escap 


CHAPTER  X. 

WHAT  PAT  HEARS  IX  THE  FOREST. 

say  that  the  young  scout  did  not  wait 
I  the  eft'ects  of  the  hand  grenade  which 


destruction 


mind  was  set  on 
of  nis  daring  act 
he  made  the  best  of  his  way  into  the  forest, 
and  then  struck  out  for  the  spot  where  he 
had  lef  t  h  is  comrades. 

He  ran  ahead  for  some  time  at  the  top  of 
his  speed,  when  it  suddenly  struck  him  that 
he  might  have  taken  a  wrong  path  in  the 
darkness  in  spite  of  the  precautions  he  had 
employed  in  coming  alonj;. 

It  did  not  occur  to  him  ,iusl  then  the  prob- 
abilities of  his  being  pursued,  so  he  drew  up 
aud  examined  the  locality  narrowly. 

Notwithstanding  the  iuteuse  darkness  he 
made  one  discovery. 

In  the  hurry  of  his  flight  he  had  come  the 
wrong  way. 

But  could  he  tell  that  ? 

Quite  easily. 

He  had  a  remarkably  piercing  eye,  and  was 
also  a  keen  and  cautious  observer. 

He  had  not  selected  his  path  blindly  when 
he  had  left  Denny  Byrne  and  Frank  O'Ma- 
houey. 

He  had  noted  every  landmark,  so  to  speak, 
in  the  size  aud  sliapo'of  trees,  any  peculiarity 
atiout  uudergrowth,  and  a  hundred  other 
things  that  might  have  escaped  the  scrutiny 
of  an  ordinary  observer. 

Amid  the  wildest  and  most  intricate  for- 
ests he  was  at  home,  partly  from  experience, 
and  ceitainly  to  a  very  great  degree  from 
intuition. 

He  had  the  keen  perception  of  an  Indian 
for  forest  scenery. 

He  had  roved  through  the  wood  from  child- 
hood, and  this  was  the  flrst  time  perhaps  he 
was  ever  at  a  loss. 

He  was  now  most  nitaiiilv  at  a  loss. 

Hehadnothi-ede.l  ni  ins  tlifilit  how  far  he 
had  come,  but  it  must  have  lieeu  somewhat 
closely  approaching  a  mile. 

He  listened  intently  to  discover  if  he  had 
been  pursued. 

No  sound  met  his  ears. 

The  whole  woodlaud  wore  a  dreary  and 
ominous  stUluess— the  stillness  of  a  vast  wil- 
derness where  no  hmnan  sound  had  ever 
penetrated. 

The  young  scout  ne.\t  cast  his  eyes  above. 

The  trees  grew  thick  around  and  about 
him,  and  the  interlacing  branches  above  his 
head  were  crowned  with  an  imnenetralile 
foliage  which  even  in  daylight  might  have 
prevented  a  ray  from  breaking  thi'ough. 

The  night  was  very  dark  certamly,  but  it 
made  little  difference  in  this  spot,  M-here  it 
was  never  anvthingelse. 

"I  am  not  imrsued,  that  is  evident."  said 
Fighting  Pat  ;  "audirthe  lebs  had  started 
out  in  the  flrst  instance,  they  must  have  lost 
track  of  me.    I  think  my  best  course  is  now 


to  retrace  my  steps,  for  Denny  aud  Frank 
must  be  anxious  about  this  time  for  my  safe- 
ty. Besides,"  he  continued,  "I  must  get 
back  to  camp  and  warn  the  general  of  that 
traitor,  Hynes." 

Now  tlie  difficulty  was  which  way  to  take. 

He  had  come  thus  far  at  a  very  rapid  pace, 
and  his  mind  being  occupied  with  the  new 
revelation  of  Hynes  and  his  schemes  he  had 
forgot  almost  all  else  in  his  laudable  desire 
to  circumvent  the  villain  and  put  the  two 
Irish  commanders  on  their  guard. 

It  was  a  vexatious  business,  to  make  the 
best  of  it ;  aud  now  there  was  nothing  left 
him  but  to  rectify  the  mistake. 

Having  taken  his  bearing  as  well  as  the 
darkness  would  iiermit  him,  he  set  at  once 


Ht 


his     very    eireumspeetly,  fear- 

momeutoiia  parly  of  the  eueuiy  ;  for  the 
guen  ilias  \yere,  no  dcuibt,  luowiing  about  in 
seareli  (d  liim,  or  just  as  likely  might,  before 
he  had  tiuK- to  defend  himself,  pounce  out 
from  liehiudsome  tree  or  bush  to  intercept 
and  capture  him. 

The  further  he  proceeded,  the  more  caU' 
tious,  in  consequence,  became  his  move- 
ments. 

Still  he  heard  not  a  sound. 

All  was  as  silent  as  the  grave. 

Tliis,  at  first,  to  Fightiug  Pat,  seemed  tc, 
augur  anything  but  a  total  absence  of  tho 
gueriilla  force,  which  had  made  its  encamp-, 
ment  in  probaldy  the  only  open  part  in  tho 
dense  wood— the  moreso,  perhajjs,  that  hei 
knew  that  he  could  not  be  far  from  the  en-, 
campment,  if  he  could  at  all  judge  of  hii» 
surroundings. 

However,  on  he  stole,  using  caution  ait 
every  step,  and  resolving  not  to  be  caught 
napping  even  by  the  cunning,  keen-eyecl 
gue  -="" 


ad.  at  last,  struck  1 


he 


for 
d    Fi' 


the 


near  souuil  oi  a  luuuan  voiee  starlleil  him, 
and  caused  liim  to  riart  behind  the  trunk  oiE 
a  huge  old  oak  tree. 

The  ^oice  was  singing  an  unmistakablj' 
patriotic  Irish  song,  to  which  Fighting  Pat 
listened  with  no  little  pleasure  and  sur- 
prise. 

The  man,  whoever  he  was,  was  at  a  stand- 
still, and  trolled  out  the  following  in  a 
voice  which  was,  at  least  characteristically 
Celtic  : 

inspired 


ite  to  o'Connell  lliat  is  gone,  boys,  gone. 

a  memory  to  the  friends  that  are  gone, 
1  October.  Ninety-seven, 

uy  his  soul  find  rest  in  Heaven— 
n  ( )rr  t  o  e.\ecutinn  was  led  on  ; 
tie  jury,  drunk,  agreed 

rjury  and  tiireats  drove  them  on.  boys,  or 
the  memory  of  poor  Orr  that  is  gone. 
re  saw  a  nation's  tears 

I  Henry  She; 

plain  Ar 

i  may  forgive,  but  yet 
!  never  can  forget 
soning  of  Maguire,  that  is  gc 
Our  high  star  and  true  apostle  t 
How  did  Lord  Edward  die  ? 

But  he  leftlui  Imndnvnrk'c.'ii  Major  Swan  I 
But  Sirr.  wall  sii.fl-clad  Ureast, 

Let  us  cease  Oi   nieiirn  1.1. rd  'Edward  that  is  gone. 

Here's  the  memory  of  our  friends  tliat  are  gone. 

September.  Eighteen-and-three. 

Closed  this  cruel  history, 
"When  Emmet's  bipod  the  scaffold  flowed  upon  ; 

They  miglit  then  realize 
Their  freedom— but  we  drink  to  Wolf  Tone  that  Is 

Here's  the  memory  o'f  the  friends  that  are  gone." 
This  song  was  sung  in  a  low,  plaintive 
voice — for  nothing  stirs  the  Irish  people  so 
much  as  any  reference  to  the  wrongs  of 
their  unhappy  country,  and  the  sufferings 
of  too  many  of  her  noble  but  unfortunate 


elf. 


■e  I  should  ex- 

t  tered  Fighting 

as  light  enough 

glimpse  of  the  sin- 


so  that  I  nii-ht 

ger.  Whether  lie  be  for  the  South  or  North 
the  man  who  sung  that  hasn't  the  bad  drop 
in  him,  I'll  go  bail.  Upon  my  word  I  would 
like  to  s]ieak  to  him— if  it  were  only  to 
thank  him  f.u-  the  spirit  of  patriotism  the 
song  breathes.  I  wonder  what  has  brought 
him  heri^he's  uei  a  guerrilla,  I'm  certain. 
hue-  in  the  forest  here — a  wood- 
something  of  thatsort.  I  wish 
to  Heaven  the  moon  was  up  so  I  might  get  a 
good,  square  look  at  him." 


1  ch. 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


9 


The  desire  grew  stronger  and  stronger  on 
the  j'ouug  scout  to  see  the  man  who  had 
sung  that  Irish  song— ay,  and  thank  him, 
too. 

For  the  time  being  every  other  thought 
sank  into  insignifleanoe  alongside  of  this 
one. 

"It's  no  use;  I'm  bound  to  make  his  ac- 
quaintance," muttered  the  scout.  "By  his 
voice,  he  caunot  be  more  than  a  score  of 
yards  off  at  most.  I  wish  he'd  strike  up 
something  else  so  I  could  locate  him. 


It  came  from  a  match,  which  the  late 
vocalist  had  struck,  for  the  purpose,  no 
doubt,  of  lighting  his  pipe. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

FIGHTING    PAT   DISCOVERS   A   TKUE   PRIENI 


The  light  of  the  match  while  it  burned, 
gave  Pat  Moouey  a  pretty  clear  view  of  the 
man  who  had  suug  the  Irish  song. 

He  appeared  to  be  between  Bfty  and  si-xty 
years  of  age,  possessing  an  undoubtedly 
good  face,  as  well  as  a  lithe  active  figure. 

He,  in  fact,  wore  an  uncommonly  honest 
expression,  and  his  countenance  was  char- 
acteristically Celtic. 

There  are  faces  and  faces,  however ;  and 


S?^ 


ed  physiognomist. 

Eiisf,  west,  north,  aud  south,  materially 
iiffer— particularly  the  true  old  Milesian 
vithout  mi.v  or  tainture  to  be  found 

the  west. 

To  the  latter  type  the  stranger  in  the  wood 
evidently  belonged— he  was  of  the  most  pro- 
nounced Milesian  class  of  feature;  and  we 
caunot  help  associating  this  class  with  the 
imagery  aud  poetry  of  a  land  where  poetry 
is  as  natural  as  the  air  one  breathes. 

"That's  my  man,"  said  Fighting  Pat;  aud 
without  more  ado  he  hailed  him. 

"  Hello!"  responded  the  stranger.  "Who 
calls?" 

"A  friend,"  replied  the  scout.  "I'll  be 
with  you  in  a  moment  if  you  have  no  objec- 
tion.'' 

"  Where  ai-e  you  ?" 

"Not  far  away,  you  may  be  sure.  I  saw 
you  strike  a  match  just  now,  and  can  there- 
lore  get  to  you  without  difHculty." 

"  Are  you  sure  you  can  find  your  way  in 
the  dark?"  said  the  stranger,  in  a  voice  that 
was  entirely  free  from  suspicion. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  guess  I'll  find  you  in  a  brace  of 
shakes." 

The  stranger  laughed  very  heartily  at  this 
odd  expression,  and  said : 

"  You  are  an  Irishman,  I  believe  ?" 

"  You've  struck  it." 

"Then,  stop  a  minute  and  I'll  light  an- 
other match,  so  there'll  be  no  chance  of  your 
breaking  your  neck.  There  are  a  few  little 
obstructions  to  get  over,  as  you'll  soon  find 
out." 

"  Thanks  to  you  for  the  civihty,"  replied 
the  scout;  and  the  uext  moment  a  tiny 
light  flashed  up  from  the  darkness,  which 
enabled  Fighting  Pat  to  pass  over  sundry 
obstructions— trunks  of  fallen  trees  and  thick 
forked  branches,  and  to  escape  falling  into 
two  or  three  deep  holes. 

An  instant  or  two  later  he  was  at  the 
stranger's  side. 

"  I  heard  you  singing,"  the  young  man  ex- 
plained, '  and  I  couldn't  quit  the  spot  with- 
out making  your  acquaintance." 

"Oh,  indeed!"  the  other  ejaculated,  in  a 
voice  that  sounded  very  pleasant  to  Pat's 
ears. 

"Yes,"  he  continued,  "the  songs  of  the 
Did  land  touch  a  very  tender  chord  iu  my 
nature.  I  love  to  hear  them,  and  shake  the 
man's  hand  who  can  sing  them  with  the 
feeling  with  which  they  should  be  sung. 
You  are  that  man,  so  give  me  your  hand." 

"  Upon  my  conscience,  you  are  very  flat- 
tering, sir,"  said  the  elder  man.  "  I  wasn't 
aware  that  my  voice,  or  even  the  words  of 
that  song  should  have  any  such  effect.  But, 
lejiTJug  all  jokes  aside,  my  young  friend,  you 
belong  to  the  Union  forces,  do  you  not  ?" 

"  I  do." 

"  Perhaps  you  are  the  man  I  am  after  ?" 

"  Eh  ?"  said  Fighting  Pat,  not  a  little  aston- 
ished. "Are  you  searching  for  any  one  iu 
particular?" 

"  I  am— a  young  man  named  Mooney,  of 
Coreoran's  Legion.    You  may  be  he?"  i 

"That is  my  name,"    replied    the   scout,  | 


"aud  I  have  the  honor  to  be  a  member  of 
the  gallant  corps  you  speak  of." 

"I  am  glad  to  hear  it.  In  fact,"  contin- 
ued the  stranger,  "  that  song  I  just  sung  was 
meant  for  your  ears,  and  your  ears  alone.'' 

"Indeed!"  said  Pat,  "that  sounds  singu 
lar." 

"  Not  so  singular  as  you  seem  to  think,  if 
you  knew  but  all.    You  are  in  danger'" 

"In  danger!" 

Pat  started  back  a  step. 

"No,  no;  not  from  me,"  laughed  his  com- 
panion, "  but  from  those  who  would  not 
hesitate  to  shed  your  blood  it  they  came 
across  you.  I  mean  the  guerrillas  who 
test  this  wood.  Listen  calmly  to  me  for  a 
moment." 

"  Go  on,"  said  the  scout. 

"  I  had  the  good  fortune  to  meet  your  two 
friends  a  short  while  ago,  and  saved  them 
from  the  ilutihcs  of  those  confounded  ban- 
dits—I can  call  them  nothing  else.  They 
were  within  iiii  ace  of  being  run  down,  hav- 
ing had  to  abandon  their  horses  when  I  came 
up  and  had  the  good  fortuue  of  concealing 
them  ;  but  the  guerrillas  are  still  scouring 
the  forest,  right  and  left,  and,  what  is  more, 
they  have  taken  the  precaution  to  shut  up 
every,  or  almost  every  avenue  of  escape 
from  this  wood." 

"This  looks  serious,"  said  Fighting  Pat, 
reflectively. 

"  It  would  be  serious  enough  if  they  caught 
you,  but  if  you  follow  me,  you  can  snap 
your  fingers  at  them." 

"  Where  are  my  comrades  ?" 

"They  are  where  you  can  rest  assured  of 
the  same  safety,"  replied  his  new-found 
friend.  "  They  are  in  a  place  in  this  forest, 
known  to  no  one  but  myself." 

"  And  the  guerrillas  ? 

The  stranger  laughed  meaningly. 

"Never  you  mind  the  guerrillas,"  he  re- 
joined. "They  know  me  too  well  to  give 
me  any  trouble.  Yes,  young  man,  this  for- 
est has  been  my  home  tor  nigh  onto  twenty 
years,"  the  strange  man  proceeded,  "so 
that  I  have  ciirtc  blanche  to  go  where  I  like, 
and  do  what  I  like.  They  do  not  bother  me 
for  my  opinions,  but  they  generally  sup- 
pose that  my  sympathies  are  with  the  Con- 
federacy." 

"And  they  are  not?" 

" Decidedly  not," emphasized  thestranger. 
"  I  was  forced  to  leave  my  own  land  for  lack 
of  freedom  ;  and,  think  you,  under  the    ' 


•igh 

ble    thought;    but  hark!    Did  you 
not  hear  that  ?" 

The  man  gripped  Fighting  Pat's  hand,  ex- 
citedly. 

Sure  enough  there  were  sounds  in  the  for- 
est—sounds that  indicated  to  the»  gallant 
young  Bcout  the  approach  of  danger. 

"  The  guerrillas !"  said  Pat,  in  a  whisper. 

"  You  are  right.  I  told  you  the  forest  was 
alive  with  them,  and  it  is.  Look  now  at 
those  sudden  flashes  of  light  through  the 
trees,  east,  west,  north  and  south.  They  are 
coming!" 

Suddenly  a  series  of  signals  rent  the  night 
air,  aud  went  echoing  far  and  near. 

Fighting  Pat  followed,  with  his  eyes  to  the 
points  indicated,  and  beheld  flashing  lights 
m  all  directions. 

"We  are  euvironed,"<  he  said,  calmly, 
"and  now  there  is  nothing  left  but  to  make 
a  dash  through  them." 

"Hist— hist!  Don't  talk  so  loud,"  cau- 
tioned his  new  friend,  in  an  admonitory 
tone.  "The  slightest  sound  travels  in  a 
place  like  this.  All  is  Bot  lost  yet.  I  will 
save  you." 

"  By  making  a  dash  for  it  ?" 

"No;  quick — come  this  way!" 

The  strange  man  did  not  speak  in  a  voice 
above  a  whisper,  but  the  young  scout  heard 
every  word  he  said  most  distinctly. 

For  a  moment  a  strange  suspicion  flashed 
across  his  brain. 

Was  the  man  trustworthy,  or  was  he  play- 
ing a  deep  game  to  get  him  into  the  clutches 
of  his  enemies? 

The  thought  no  sooner  flashed  across  his 
mind  than  he  blushed  for  very  shame. 

How  apt  we  are  to  be  suspicious,  when,  in 
reality,  there  is  little  cause  for  it! 

"Away  with  the  doubt,"  the  young  man 
murmured.  "The  man  is  too  thoroughly 
Celtic  to  play  the  role  of  a  traitor.  I  will 
trust  him  with  my  life— ay,  with  tweuty 
lives  if  I  had  them." 

The  true  Celt  is  incapable  of  treachery. 

The  iufoi-mers  who  have  sprung  up  from 
time  to  time  iu  Ireland,  with  Irish  names, 
were  of  that  bastard  breed  in  which  little 
dependence  can  be  placed  at  any  time. 


They  were  the  outcome  of  an  amalgama- 
tion of  the  Dane,  the  Norman  aud  the  Saxon, 
with  the  worst  type  of  the  Irish. 

The  true  Celt  is  never  a  betrayer,  and  this 
has  been  oonclnsirely  proven,  without  the 
hazard  of  n  doubt. 

"Yes,"  murmiiredthe  scout,  "I  will  trust 
him  with  my  life!" 


CHAPTER  XII. 

.\    XARROW   ESCAPE. 

There  was  no  time  to  be  lost  now. 

The  flashing  lights,  looming  up  through 
the  dense  darkuess  of  the  forest,  were  ap- 
proaching nearer  aud  nearer. 

There  wasa  veritable  living  cordon  around 
the  two  meu,  from  which,  under  other  cir- 
cumstances, there  could  be  no  possibility  of 
escape. 

"  Come,"  said  the  stranger,  in  his  usual 
cautious  tones,  "  we  have  not  a  moment  to 
spare.    I  must  hide  you,  and  at  once." 

"But  what  about  yourself?" 

"Did  I  not  tell  you,"  said  his  new  friend, 
with  a  gesture  of  impatience,  "  that  I  have 
nothing  to  fear." 

"They  won't  suspect,  then " 

"No;  and  n.iw  no  further  waste  of  words, 
if  you  pli-a^i-;  Imt  fnllnw  me." 

Thestr;iii-rr  HusHpiKireiitlyaman  of  ac- 
tion, and  In-  jJi  .s.-ntly  >lni«-cd  it. 

"Take  a  lidlil  (if  my  liiind  and  tread  cau- 
tiously.   The  least  uoise  now  may  cost  you 


•life.' 


Fighting  Pat  obeyed  the  injunction  of  his 
friend— for  friend  he  indeed  proved— and 
was  led  about  twenty  or  thirty  feet  to  the 
left. 

Once  or  twice  he  trod  on  some  dried  branch 
or  twig,  which  gave  out  a  peculiar  cracking 
noise;  but  these  sounds  were  effectually 
drowned  in  the  repeated  signals  of  the  guer- 
rillas as  they  drew  nearer  and  nearer  every 
moment. 

"  We  are  fur  enough,  "  whispered  the 
stranger,  "  and  now  I'll  conceal  you  in  it 
place  where  it  will  puzzle  them  to  And,  evei> 
though  they  should  suspect  that  you  are- 
somewhere  in  the  neighborhood." 

They  had  drawn  up  on  the  south  side  of 
the  bole  of  an  immense  tree— a  giant  oak  of 
tremendous  girth,  whose  age  could  not  have 
been  less  than  five  or  si.'c  centuries. 

"The  trunk  of  this  tree  is  hollow,"  the 
stranger  whispered,  "and,  once  inside,  I 
think  I  can  vouch  for  your  safety." 

The  bole  of  the  oak  was  literally  covered 
with  a  mass  of  vegetation,  whose  luxuriant 
foliage  served  to  effectually  conceal  the  fact 
that  It  was  hollow  inside. 

The  stranger  quickly  drew  aside  the  creep- 
ers aud  climbing  vines  that  so  thickly  envel- 
oped the  oak,  and,  without  ceremony,  thrust 
Fighting  Pat  into  the  hollow.  ' 

"  Remain  there,  and  don't  speak,"  he  cau- 
tioned. "  When  I  have  disposed  of  them  I 
will  let  you  know." 

"I  hope  you'll  dispose  of  them  very 
quickly." 

"That  will  remain  to  be  seen.  However 
I  will  do  my  best,  and  no  man  can  do  more,'' 
saying  which  Le  made  the  bole  of  the  tree 
look  as  If  the  vegetation  had  not  been  dis- 
turbed, then  waited  calmly  for  the  guer- 
rillas to  come  up. 

Again  the  lone  forest  rung  with  the  cries 
of  the  searchers,  lights  flashed  hither  and 
thither  as  the  circle  narrowed  very  ma- 
terially. •' 

"Halloo— halloo ! "  rolled  the  voice  of  the 
stranger,  above  all  other  sounds. 

"Halloo— halloo!"  came  back  the  answer- 
ing response;  aud  then  the  men  who  had 
carried  the  lights  came  forward  with  a  rush 
—from  north,  south,  east  aud  west. 

Fighting  Pat  heard    the  loud  "halloo"  of 
his  late   coiiductor;   and,  for  the  moment, 
could  not  understand  what  it  meant 
,?,]?  ^^'^  ™''°  ™'*''°  betraying  him  after 

Again  a  suspicion  of  his  new  friend's  in- 
tegrity flashed  across  his  brain. 

"  if  I  thought  he  brought  me  here  for  the 
purpo.-ie  of  betraying  me,"  said  Pat,  through 
his  gratiug  twth,  "I'd  tear  his  treacherous 
heait  out.    But  no,"  he  again  murmured, 

I  will  never  heheve  that  a  man  of  his  kind 


How  IS  a  man  to  know  who  is  his  friend 
under  the  conditions  in  which  our  gallant 
young  scout  was  placed  ?  * 

The  best  of  us  grow  suspicious  under  such 
circumstauc-es,  aud  Fighting  Pat  was  no  ex- 
ception to  the  rule. 

He  -was  environed  by  dangers,  and  con- 
sequently more  liable  to  suspect  people. 

The  young  scout  was  instantly  conscious 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


of  one  thing,  however— the  fact  that  hiB 
strange  friend  had  moved  away  from  the 
oak  in  the  hollow  of  which  he  was  hidden 
from  his  foes. 

"  Halloo— halloo— halloo!"  rung  once  more 
through  the  wilderness  of  timber  and  under- 
growth. 

The  pattering  of  feet  and  cracking  of 
branches  still  continued.  Then  suddenly  all 
sounds  ceased. 

Fighting  Pat  knew  from  that  moment 
that  the  scouting  party  of  guerrillas  had 
come  up. 

He  now  strained  his  listening  to  its  utmost 
intensity  to  hear  what  was  said. 

He  even  removed  the  thick  vegetation 
partly  concealing  his  hiding-place  to  hear 
what  was  said ;  for,  it  must  be  admitted,  he 
was  not  altogether  easy  in  his  mind,  some 
lurking  suspicion  yet  remained  as  to  the 
good  faith  of  his  guide. 

Fighting  Pat  now  settled  himself  down  to 
listen  to  all  that  was  passing.  Beyond  him 
was  a  dense,  impenetrable  darkness,  but  not 
a  word  of  the  conversation  that  passed  es- 
caped his  keen  ear. 

The  Urst  voice  heat  once  recognized  as  the 
one  he  had  previously  heard  in  the  glade — 
the  voice,  in  fact,  of  the  guerrilla  ehieftian. 

"I  am  very  glad  you're  here,  Morgan," 
said  this  man.  "  Why  didn't  you  shout  be- 
fore?" 

"  I  did  as  soon  as  I  heard  and  saw  you," 
was  the  reply  of  Pafs  friend." 

"  Have  you  been  long  here  ?" 

"Just  a  short  time." 

"How  long?" 

"  About  five  minutes.  It  may  be  ten— I 
wouldn't  be  sure." 

"So!  Did  you  come  across  any  Yanks  in 
the  forest?" 

"  Wheu— to-night  ?" 

"I  saw  no  Yankees  for  more  than  a 
month,"  was  the  truthful  reply. 

He  had  not.  He  had  seen  three  Irishmen, 
but  no  Yankees;  and  it  never  struck  the 
coarse  mind  of  the  guerrilla  to  correct  him- 
self, and  put  the  question  in  the  way  it 
ought  to  have  been  put. 

•■There  are  three  of  them  in  the  forest 
nevertheless,"  was  the  guerrilla's  rejoinder; 
"and  if  I  liappeu  to  drop  on  any  of  'em  I'll 
cut  their  cursed  hearts  out.  What  do  you 
say  to  this,  Morgau— oue  of  the  blank  cusses 
had  the  impudence  to  steal  into  our  camp 
and  throw  a  haud-grenade  into  the  fire." 

"  That  was  serious,"  said  Morgan,  sadly. 

"Serious!  Serious  is  no  name  for  it,"  ex- 
claimed the  guerrilla  chieftain,  swearing  out 
a  horrible  oath.  "  It  killed  two  of  our  men 
straight  off,  and  wounded  three  more.  I 
should  like  to  catch  the  Yank  as  did  it,  and 
if  I  wouldn't  make  him  smell  brimstone, 
blank  me!" 

"  Catch  him  by  all  means,"  said  Morgan, 
quietly. 

"  This  wouldn't  be  a  bad  hiding  place  for 
the  cuss,"  said  the  guerrilla,  examining  the 


brush.     We  may  find  our  quarry  here." 

"That  may  be,  too,"  said  Morgan,  laugh- 
ing.   "  Shall  I  help  you  ?" 

"  If  you  like— yes.  Let  the  bullets  whizz 
about,  boys,"  continued  the  leader  of  the 
party;  "and  prod  the  undergrowth  well 
with  vour  sabers." 

The"  lurid  lights  of  the  pine  torches  went 
flashing  here  and  there,  as  the  guerrillas  set 
about  the  work  with  a  will. 

Every  bit  of  undergrowth  was  scrutinized 
carefully. 

Tne  repeated  reports  of  revolvers  and  car- 
bines told  Fighting  Pat  that  the  guerrillas 
were  doing  all  in  their  power  to  make  it  hot 
for  any  one  who  might  be  concealed  in  their 
vicinity. 

Even  the  very  trees  had  not  escaped. 

Bullets  went  whizzing  into  their  very  tops 
among  the  branches  and  foliage — not  even 
the  boles  escaped. 

Two  or  three  of   the  leaden  messengers 

gassed  so  close  to  Fighting  Pat's  head  that 
e  concluded  he  was  about  to  be  made  an 
animated  target  of;  and  once  they  came 
within  an   ace  of  discovering  his    hiding- 

glace ;  but  they  fortunately  passed  on,  and 
e  breathed  freely  once  more. 
Suddenly  all  sounds  once  more  ceased,  and 
the  dense  forest  wore  its  usual  impressive 
stillness. 
Fightiiig  Pat  had  had  a  very  narrow  es- 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE  CAVE  DJ  THE  WOOD. 

Nearly  an  hour  had  passed. 

The  young  scout  was  getting  impatient  as 


to  the  return  of  the  man  who  had  so  nobly 
befriended  him,  when  suddenly  a  stealthy 
footstep  caught  his  ear. 

"One  of  the  prowling  guerrillas,"  he 
thought. 

He  was  wrong. 

It  was  Morgan,  who  seeing  that  he  could 
do  so  safely  had  come  back. 

"  It's  all  right,"  said  the  man,  as  he  parted 
the  thick  vegetation  that  concealed  the  hol- 
low in  the  trunk.    "  It's  all  right— come." 

"Are  they  gone?" 

"Yes." 

"  Still  scouring  the  wood  for  me  ?" 

"No.  They  have  gone  back  to  their  en- 
campment in  the  glade;  though  every 
avenue  of  escape  from  the  forest  is  still 
guarded." 

"  They  must  be  in  considerable  force  here, 
then,"  said  Pat,  leaping  from  his  place  of 
concealment  and  rejoining  his  friend. 

"  They  are — about  si.\  or  seven  hundred  of 
them  altogether,  independent  of  a  troop  of 


'  I  reckon  you'll  have  to  be  my  j 


danger." 

"  He  is  already  warned,"  was  Morgan's 
quiet  reply.  "  I  dispatched  my  son  for  that 
purpose  some  hours  ago." 

"  Your  son !"  exclaimed  Pat,  surprised. 

"  My  son !  There's  nothing  very  extra- 
ordinary in  that,  is  there?  I  have  two  of  as 
fine  fellows  as  you'd  wish  to  see  in  a  day's 
walk.  But  come,  you  shall  join  your  two 
frientls,  who  are  anxious  about  your  safety. 
Your  horses  are  all  right.  My  other  boy  got 
them  wandering  about  in  the  forest,  and, 
securing  them,  brought  them  to  the  cave." 

"The  cave?"  ejaculated  Pat.  "I  thought 
you  lived  in  the  log  hut?" 

"  And  so  I  do.  But  when  my  friends  are 
in  danger  the  cave  is  the  best  hiding  place  for 
them." 

No  more  was  said. 

The  two  men  moved  stealthily  through 
the  mazes  of  the  forest  for  about  a  mile  and 
a  half. 

Here  the  guide  drew  up  before  a  tall,  per- 
pendicular crag,  whose  jagged  surface  was 
one  impenetrable  mass  of  vegetation. 

There  seemed  no  possibility  of  a  cave  be- 
ing there ;  but  still,  there  was  one,  as  Fight- 
ing Pat  very  soon  discovered. 

"This  is  something  like  the  hollow  oak," 
observed  Morgan.    "Come!" 

He  drew  the  gorse,  and  shrubs  and  creep- 
ers aside,  disclosing  the  entrance  to  ex- 
tensive apartments  in  the  solid  rock— not 
one  room,  indeed,  but  half  a  dozen,  leading 
from  one  to  the  other. 

If  the  first  cavernous  apartment  was  spa- 
cious, the"  second  was  more  so,  and  could 
amply  accommodate  a  couple  of  hundred 
men,  in  case  they  should  be  necessitated  to 
hide  in  the  wood. 

In  this  second  room  there  burned  a  bright 
wood  fire,  at  which  were  seated  Denny 
Byrne,  Frank  O'Mahoney,  and,  a  third,  a 
stalwart-looking  young  fellow,  a  stranger  to 
Fighting  Pat,  but  who  was  Morgan's  second 
son  and  namesake. 

It  is  needless  to  state,  at  this  stage,  how 
glad  the  three  comrades  were  to  meet  each 
other,  or  of  the  manner  in  which  they  thank- 
ed their  kind  entertainer  and  preserver  for 
the  loyal  aud  generous  manner  in  which  he 
had  acted. 

The  five  men,  during  the  evening,  partook 
of  as  deliciously  a  cooked  meal  as  Fighting 
Pat  had  eaten  lor  many  a  long  day. 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  the  accommoda- 
tions and  conveniences  of  the  cave  appeared 
to  be  endless. 

As  the  night  passed  away,  and  the  supper 
things  were  removed,  whisky,  wine  and 
cigars  were  served  out  with  no  stinted 
hand. 

Song  and  story  claimed  a  fair  share  of  the 
night's  entertainment;  and  as  the  one  told 
by  Morgan— who,  by  the  way,  was  a  great 
Irish  antiquarian— would  be  worth  repro- 
ducing, we  shall  forthwith  proceed  to 
give  it. 

The  story  is  one  of  remarkable  beauty  aud 
power,  and  no  doubt  our  readers  will  agree 
with  us  in  our  estimate. 

We  reserve  it,  however,  for  a  long  and  in- 
teresting chapter. 


seven  extraordinary  battalions  of  the  Feni- 
ans of  Erin. 

"In  the  course  of  the  day,  on  casting  a 
look  over  the  broad  expanse  of  the  sea,  they 
beheld  a  large,  smooth-sided  and  proud- 
looking  ship  plowiug  the  waves  from  the 
east,  and  approaching  them  under  full  sail. 

"  When  the  capacious  vessel  touched  the 
shore  aud  lowered  her  sails,  the  Fenians  of 
Erin  counted  upon  seeing  a  host  of  men  dis- 
embark from  her,  and  great  was  their  sur- 
prise when  one  warrior,  and  no  more,  came 
out  of  the  ship  aud  landed  on  the  beach. 

"He  was  a  hero  of  the  largest  make  of 
body,  the  strongest  of  champions,  and  the 
finest  of  the  human  race ;  aud  in  this  wise 
was  the  kingly  warrior  equipped— an  im- 
penetrable helmet  of  polished  steel  incased 
his  ample  and  beautiful  head,  a  deep  f ur- 
,1       .1,:  ..  ,..,  j.p|-^_    sharp-edged    sword 


"Such  were  bis  chief  accoutrements,  and 
armed  ill  tliis  fashion  aud  manner  did  the 
stranger  loiiie  into  the  presence  of  Finn 
MacL'Moit'  and  the  Feuians  of  Erin. 

"It  was  th.-n  that  Fiun,  the  King  of  the 
Feuir.iis  mlili  .sscil  the  heroic  champion  and 

"•I'loiu  \vliai  Mii:irter  of  the  globe  hast 
thou  r,.m.>  iiiito  u.s,  oh,  goodly  youth,  or 
from  which  of  the  uoble  or  ignoble  races  of 
the  uuiveise  art  thou  sprung?  Who  art 
thou  r 

"  'I  am,'  answered  the  stranger,  'Ironboues, 
theson  of  the  King  of  Thessaly,  and  so  far 
as  I  have  traveled  on  this  globe  since  the 
day  that  I  left  my  own  land,  I  have  laid 
every  country,  peninsula  and  island  un- 
der coutributiou  to  my  sword  and  my  arm — 
this  I  have  done  even  to  the  present  hour; 
and  my  desire  is  to  obtaiu  the  crown  and 
tribute  of  this  couutiy  in  like  manner;  tor 
if  I  obtain  them  uot,  I  purpose  to  bring 
slaughter  of  men  aud  deficiency  of  heroes 
and  youthful  warriois  tm  the  seven  ordinary 
and  seven  extraordiuary  battalions  of  the 
Fenian  host.  Such,  C>  king,  is  the  object 
of  my  visit  so  this  couuiry,  aud  such  is  my 
design  iu  landing  here.' 

"  Hereupon  uprose  Couan  the  Bold,  and 
said : 

"  '  Of  a  truth,  my  friend,  it  seems  to  me 
that  you  have  come  upon  a  foolish  enter- 
prise, and  that  to  the  end  of  your  life  and 
the  close  of  your  days  you  will  not  be  able 
to  accomplish  your  purpose,  because  from 
the  beginning  of  ages  until   now   no   man 


CHAPTER  XrV. 
MORGAN'S     STOBY. 

"On  a  oertatn  day,"  proceeded  the  story, 
teller,  "  a  fair  aud  a  gathering  were  held  at 
Beneadar,  by  the  seven  ordinary  and   the 


ever  heard  of  a  hero  or  ever  saw  a  champion 


same  coimtry.' 

"  Ironbones  replied : 

"' Imake  but  very  little  account  of  your 
speech,  Conan,'  said  he,  'for  if  all  the 
Fenian  heroes  who  have  died  within  the 
last  seven  years  were  now  in  the  world,  and 
were  joined  by  those  who  are  now  living,  I 
would  visit  all  of  them  with  the  sorrow  of 
death,  and  show  all  of  them  the  shortness  of 
life  in  one  day ;  nevertheless  I  will  make 
your  warriors  a  more  peaceful  proposal.  I 
challenge  you,  then,  oh,  warrior,  to  find  me 
a  man  among  you  who  can  vanquish  me  in 
running,  in  fighting,  or  in  wrestling.  If 
you  can  do  this,  I  shall  give  you  no  further- 
trouble,  but  return  to  my  own  country 
without  loitering  here  any  longer.' 

"  '  And  pray,'  inquired  Finn,  '  which  of 
those  three  manly  exercises  that  you  have 
named  will  it  please  you  to  select  for  the 
first  trial  of  prowess?' 

"To  this,  Ironbones  answered : 

"' If  you  can  find  for  me  any  one  cham- 
pion of  your  number  who  can  run  faster 
than  I  can,  I  will  give  you  no  further  an- 
noyance, but  depart  at  once  to  my  own 
country.' 

"'It  so  happens,'  said  Finn,  'that  our 
Man  of  Swiftness,  Keelte  MacRonan,  is  not 
here  at  present  to  try  his  powers  of  running 
with  you,  and  as  he  is  not  it  were  better. 
O  hero,  that  you  should  sojourn  here  » 
season  with  the  Fenians  that  you  and  they 
may  mutually  make  and  appreciate  each 
other's  acquaintance  by  means  of  conversa- 
tion and  amusements,  as  is  our  wont.  In  the 
meanwhile,  I  will  repair  toTara  of  the  Kings 
in  quest  of  Keelte  Mac  Ronan ;  and  if  I  have 
not  the  good  fortune  to  find  him  there  I 
shall  certainly  meet  with  him  at  Cis  Corawn 
of  the  Fenii,  from  whence  I  shall  without 
delay  bring  him  hither  to  meet  you.' 

"  The  this  Ironbones  agreed,  saying  that  he 
was  well  satisfied  with  what  Finn  proposed, 
and  thereupon  Finn  proceeded  on  his  way 
toward  Tara  of  the  Kings,  in  search  of 
Keelte. 

"Now  it  fell  out  that  as  he  journeyed 
along  he  missed  his  way,  so  that  he  came  to 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


a  dense,  wide  and  gloomy  wood,  divided  iu 
the  midst  by  a  broad  aud  miry  road  or  path- 
way 

"Before he  had  advanced  more  tliiui  a 
very  little  distance  on  this  road,  he  jier- 
ceived  coming  directly  toward  him  an  ugly, 
detestable-looking  giant,  who  wore  a  jiviij- 
frieze  coat,  the  skirts  of  which  reached  dowii 
to  the  calves  of  his  legs,  and  were  bespat- 
tered with  yellow  mud  to  the  depth  of  a 
heroe's  hand,  so  that  every  step  he  made  the 
lower  part  of  the  coat  struck  with  such  vio- 
lence against  his  legs  as  to  produce  a  sound 
that  could  be  distinctly  heard  a  full  mile  of 
ground  off. 

■•  Each  of  the  two  legs  that  sustained  the 
unwieldly  carcass  of  this  hon-iMe,  hideous 
monster  was  like  the  mastcf  a  great  ship, 
and  each  of  the  two  shoes  that  were  on  his 
shapeless,  horny,  long-nailed  hoofs  resem- 
bled a  roomy  long-sided  boat,  and  ever\- 
time  he  lifted  his  foot,  and  at  every  stcii 
that  he  walked,  he  splashed  up  from  each 
shoe  a  good  barrelfull  of  mire  aud  water  on 
the  lower  part  of  his  body. 

"  Finn  gazed  iu  amazement  at  the  colossal 
man ;  for  he  had  never  before  seen  any  one 
so  big  and  bulky.  Yet  he  would  have  passed 
onward  and  continued  his  route,  but  the 
giant  stopped  and  accosted  him,  and  Finn 
was  under  the  necessity  of  stopping  also  and 
exchanging  a  few  words  with  the  giant. 
The  giant  began  in  this  manner: 
'"What  ho!  Finn  MacCoole,'"  said  he, 
'  What  desire  for  traveling  is  this  that  has 
seized  on  you,  and  how  far  do  you  mean  to 
go  upon  this  journey?' 

" '  Oh,'  said  Finn,  '  as  to  that,  my  trouble 
and  anxiety  are  so  gieat  that  I  cannot  de- 
scribe them  to  you,  and,  indeed,  small  is  the 
use,'  added  he,  '  it  would  be  of  to  me  to  at- 
tempt doiug  so;  and  I  think  it  would  be  bet- 
ter for  you  to  let  mc  go  on  my  way  without 
asking  any  more  questions  of  me.' 
"  But  the  giant  was  not  so  easily  put  off. 
" '  Oh,  Finn,'  said  he,  '  you  may  keep  your 
secret  if  you  like  ;  but  all  the  loss  and  the 
misfortune  attending  your  silence  will  be 
your  own  ;  aud  wheu  you  think  well  upon 
that,  maybe  vou  would  not  boggle  any 
longer  about  disclosing  to  me  the  nature  of 
youren-and.' 

"  So  Finn,  seeing  the  huge  size  of  the  giant, 
and  thinking  it  advisable  not  to  provoke 
him,  began  to  tell  him  all  that  had  taken 
place  among  the  Fenians  of  Erin  so  short  a 
time  before. 

"  '  You  must  know,'  said  he,  -that  at  the 
meridian  hour  of  this  very  day,  the  great 
Ironbones,  son  of  the  King  of  Thessaly, 
landed  at  the  harbor  of  Bineadar  with  the 
view  of  taking  the  crown  and  sovereignty 
of  Ireland  into  his  own  hands;  and  if  he 
does  not  obtain  them  with  the  free  and  good 
will  of  the  Irish,  he  threatens  to  distribute 
death  and  destruction  impartially  among 
the  young  and  old  of  our  heroes.  Howbeit 
he  has  challenged  us  to  find  a  man  able  to 
surpass  him  in  ruuniug,  fighting  or  wrest- 
ling ;  and  if  we  can  tlnd  such  a  man,  then  he 
agrees  to  forego  his  pretensions  and  to  re- 
turn to  his  own  country  without  giving  us 
further  trouble;  aud  that,' said  Finn, 'is 
the  history  I  have  for  you.' 

"  '  And  how  do  you  intend  to  oppose  the 
royal  warrior  ?'  asked  the  giant.  '  I  know 
him  well,  and  I  know  he  has  the  vigor  in 
his  hand  and  the  strength  in  his  arm  to 
oarryevery  threat  he  makes  into  effect.' 

" 'Why,  then,'  said  Finn,  in  answer  to 
this,  '  I  intend  to  go  to  Tara  of  the  Kings 
for  Keelte  MacRonan,  and  if  I  do  not  find 
him  there  I  will  go  to  look  for  him  at  Cis- 
Corawn,  of  the  Fenii;  and  it  is  he,'  said  he, 
'  whom  I  mean  to  bring  with  me  for  the  pur- 
pose of  vanquishing  this  hero  in  running.' 

"  '  Alas !'  said  the  giant,'  '  weak  is  yourde- 
pendence  and  feeble  your  champion  for 
propping  and  preserving  the  monai-chy  of 
Ireland ;  and  if  Keelte  MacRonan  be  your 
tree  of  defiance,  you  are  already  a  man 
without  a  country.' 

"  '  It  is  I,  then,'  said  Finn,  '  who  am  sorry 
you  should  say  so ;  and  what  to  do  in  this 
extremity  I  cannot  tell.' 

'"I  will  show  you,'  replied  the  gigantic 
man.  '  Just  do  you  say  nothing  at  all,  but 
accept  me  as  the  opponent  of  this  champion, 
and  it  may  happen  that  I  shall  be  able  to 
get  you  out  of  your  difficulty.' 

"  Oh,'  said  Finn,  '  for  the  matter  of  that,  it 
is  my  own  notion  that  you  have  enough  to 
do  if  you  can  carry  your  big  coat  and  drag 
your  shoes  with  you  one  half  mile  of  ground 
in  a  day  without  trying  to  rival  such  a  hero 
as  IrouDoues  in  valor  or  agility.' 

"'You  may  have  what  notions  you  like,' 
returned  the  giant,  '  but  I  tell  you  that  if  I 
am  not  able  to  give  a  battle  to  the  fighting 
hero,  there  never  has  been,  and  there  is  not 


now,  a  man  in  Ireland  able  to  cope  with 
him.  Never  mind,  Finn  MacCoole,  let  uot 
ynur  spirits  be  cast  down,  for  I  will  take  it 
ui^ou  myself  t'l  deliver  you  from  the  danger 

'  •  W'liiLt  i-  \  nil?'  uaine?'  demanded  Finn. 

■' ■  i;i"laiii-an -( 'liota-Lachtna  (the  churl 
with  tin-  ;;niv  coat)  is  my  name,'  the  giant 
auswered. 

"  '  Well,  then,'  said  Finn,  '  you  will  do  well 
to  come  along  with  me.' 

"  So  Piun  turned  back,  and  the  Bodach 
went  with  him,  but  I  have  no  accouut  of 
their  travels  till  thcv  reached  Biueadar. 

"There,  when  tlie  Fenians  beliekl  the 
Bodach  attired  iu  such  a  fashion  and  trim, 
they  were  all  very  much  surprised,  for  they 
had  never  before  seen  the  like  of  him ;  aud 
they  were  greatly  overjoyed  that  he  should 
make  his  appearance  among  them  at  suoh  a 
critical  moment. 

"  As  for  Ironbones,  he  came  before  Finn 
aud  asked  him  if  he  had  got  the  man  who 
was  to  contend  with  him  in  running. 

"Fiun  made  answer  that  he  had,  and 
that  he  was  at  present  among  them ;  and 
thereupon  he  pointed  out  the  Bodach   to 

"As  soon  as  Ironbones  saw  the  Bodach 
he  was  seized  with  astonishment,  and  his 
courage  was  dampened  at  the  sight  of  the 
gigantic  proportions  of  the  mighty  man; 
but  he  pretended  to  be  only  very  indignant, 
and  exclaimed : 

"'What!  do  you  expect  me  to  demean 
myself  by  engaging  in  a  contest  with  such  an 
ugly,  greasy,  hateful-looking  Bodach  as 
that?' 

"  '  It  is  myself  that  will  do  no  such  thing,' 
said  he;  and  he  stepped  back  and  would  not 
go  near  the  Bodach. 

"  Wheu  the  Bodach  heard  this,  he  burst 
into  a  loud,  hoarse,  thunderous  laugh,  and 
said  : 

" '  Come,  Ironbones,  this  will  not  do.  I 
am  not  the  sort  of  a  jjerson  you  affect  to 
think  me,  aud  it  is  you  that  shall  have  proof 
of  my  assertion  before  to-morrow  evening. 
So  uow  let  me  know,'  said  he,  'what  is  the 
leugth  of  the  course  you  jiropose  to  run 
over,  for  over  the  same  course  it  is  my  in- 
tention to  run  along  with  you,  and  if  I  do 
not  succeed  in  ruuning  that  distance  with 
you,  it  is  a  fair  conclusion  that  you  win  the 
race;  and,  in  like  mauner,  if  I  do  succeed  in 
outstiipping  you,  then  it  stands  to  reason 
that  you  lose  the  race.' 

" '  There  is  sense  and  rationality  iu  your 
language,"  replied  Ironbones,  for  he  saw 
that  he  must  submit,  and  I  agree  to  what 
you  say,  but  it  is  my  wish  not  to  have  the 
course  shorter  or  longer  than  three-score 
miles.' 

"'Well,'  said  the  Bodach,  'that  will  an- 
swer me,  too,  for  it  is  just  three-score  miles 
from  Mount  Loocra,  in  Munster,  to  Binea- 
dar, and  it  will  be  a  pleasant  run  for  the 
pair  of  us,  but  if  you  find  that  I  am  not  able 
to  finish  it  before  you,  of  course  the  victory 
is  yours.' 

Ironbones  replied  that  he  would  not 
lict  so  evident  a 
the  Bodach  resumei 

"'What  it  is  proper  for  you  to  do  now,' 
said  he,  'is  to  come  along  with  me  south- 
ward to  Mount  Loocra  this  evening,  in  order 
that  we  make  ourselves  acquainted  with  the 
ground  we  are  to  go  over  to-morrow  on  our 
return,  and  we  can  stop  for  the  night  on  the 
mount,  so  that  we  may  be  able  to  start  with 
the  break  of  day.' 

"  To  this  also  Ironbones  acceded,  saying  it 
was  a  judicious  speech,  and  that  he  had 
nothing  to  object  to  it. 

"Upon  this  the  two  competitors  com- 
menced their  journey,  and  little  was  the  de- 
lay they  made  until  they  arrived  at  Mount 
Loocra,  iu  Munster. 

"As  soon  as  they  got  thither,  the  Bodach 
again  addressed  Ironbones,  and  told  him 
that  he  thought  their  best  plan  would  be  to 
build  a  hut  in  the  adjoining  wood  so  they 
might  be  protected  from  the  inclemency  of 
the  night.  '  For  it  seems  tome,  O  son  of  the 
King  of  Thessaly,'  said  he,  'that  if  we  do 
not,  we  are  likely  to  have  a  hard  couch  and 
cold  quarters  on  this  exposed  hill.' 

"  To  this  Ironbones  made  reply,  thus: 

" '  You  may  do  so  if  you  please,  O  Bodach 
of  the  Big  Coat,  but  as  for  me,  I  am  Iron- 
bones, and  care  not  for  dainty  lodging,  and 
I  am  mightily  disinclined  to  give  myself  the 


again ;  howbeit,  if  you  are  desirous  of  em- 
ploying your  hands,  there  is  noboby  to  cross 
you.  You  may  build,  and  I  shall  stay  here 
until  you  have  finished.' 

"'Very    good,'    said   the   Bodach,    'and 
build  I  will,  but  I  shall  take  good  care  that 


a  certaui  person  who  refuses  to  assist  me 
shall  have  no  share  in  my  sleeping-room 
should  I  succeed  in  making  it  as  comforta- 
ble as  I  hope  to  do ;'  and  with  this  he  betook 
himself  into  the  wood,  and  l)t'4aii  inttiug 
down  and  shaping  pieces  ol  tiinlMT  Willi  the 
greatest  expedition,  never  ccasin,^'  iiutil  ho 
had  got  together  six  pair  of  stakes  aud  as 
many  of  rafters,  which,  with  a  sufficient 
quantity  of  brushwood  and  green  rushes  for 
thatch,  he  carried  bound  in  one  load  to  a 
convenient  spot,  and  there  sat  them  up  at 
once  iu  regular  order. 

"This  iiart  of  his  work  being  finished,  he 
again  entered  the  wood,  and  carried  from 
thence  a  good  load  of  dry  green  sticks, 
which  he  kindled  into  a  fire  that  roared  from 
the  back  of  the  hut  to  the  door. 

"  While  the  fire  was  blazing  merrily,  he 
left  the  hnt,  and  again  addressing  his  com- 
panion, said  to  him. 

"  '  O  son  of  the  King  of  Thessaly,  called 
by  men,  Ironbones,  are  you  provided  with 
provisions  for  the  night,  and  have  you  eata- 
bles and  drinkables  to  keep  you  from  hun- 
ger and  thirst  ?' 

"'No;  I  have  not,'  said  Ironbones, 
proudly,  '  it  is  myself  that  used  never  be 
without  people  to  provide  victuals  for  me 
when  I  wanted  them,'  said  he. 


the  best  thing  you  can  do  is  to  come  and 
hunt  with  me  in  the  wood,  and  my  hand  to 
you,  we  shall  soon  have  enough  of  victuals 
for  both  of  us.' 

"'I  never  practiced  pedestrian  hunting,' 
said  Ironbones,  '  and  with  the  like  of  you  I 
never  hunted  at  all,  and  I  don't  think  I 
shall  begin  now,'  said  he,  in  a  very  dignified 
sort  of  a  way. 

"' Then  I  must  try  my  luck  myself,'  said 
the  Bodach  ;  and  off  again  he  bounded  into 
the  wood,  and  after  he  had  gone  a  little  way 
he  roused  a  herd  of  wild  swine,  and  pursued 
them  into  the  recesses  of  the  wood,  and  there 
he  succeeded  in  separating  from  the  rest  the 
rhich 
:  hut, 

where  he  slaughtered  it,  and  cut  it  into  two 
hal'-es,  one  of  which  he  placed  at  each  side 
of  tlio  fire  on  a  self -moving  holly  spit. 

"  He  then  darted  out  once  more  and  stop- 
ped not  until  he  reached  the  mansion  of  the 
Baron  of  Inchiciuin,  which  was  thirty  miles 
distant,  from  whence  he  carried  off  a  table 
and  chair,  two  barrels  of  wine,  and  all  the 
bread  fit  for  eating  he  could  lay  his  hands 
on,  all  of  which  he  brought  to  Mount  Loocra 
in  one  load. 

"  When  he  again  entered  his  hut,  he  found 
his  hog  entirely  roasted,  aud  in  nice  order 
for  mastication,  so  he  laid  half  the  meat  and 
bread  on  the  table,  and  sitting  down  dispos- 
ed of  them  with  wonderful  alacrity,  drink- 
ing at  the  same  time  precisely  one  barrel  of 
the  wine  and  no  more;  for  he  reserved  the 
other  as  well  as  the  rest  of  the  solids  for  his 
breakfast  in  the  morning. 

"  Having  thus  finished  his  supper,  he 
shook  a  large  number  of  green  rushes  over 
the  floor,  and  laying  himself  down,  soon  feU 
asleep,  which  lasted  until  the  rising  of  the 
sun  next  morning. 

"  As  soon  as  the  morning  was  come,  Iron- 
bones, who  had  got  neither  food  nor  sleep 
the  whole  night,  came  down  from  the 
mountain's  side  and  awoke  Bodach,  telling 
him  that  it  was  time  to  commence  their  con- 
test. 

"  The  Bodach  raised  his  head,  rubbed  his 
eyes,  and  replied  : 

" '  I  have  another  hour  to  sleep  yet,  and 
when  I  get  up  I  have  to  eat  a  halt  hog  and 
drink  a  barrel  of  wine;  but  as  you  seem  to 
be  in  a  hurry  you  have  my  consent  to  pro- 
ceed on  your  way  before  me,  and  you  may 
be  sure  I  will  follow  you.' 

"  So  saying,  he  laid  his  head  down,  and 
fell  again  snoring;  and  upon  seeing  this 
Ironbones  began  the  race  by  himself,  but  he 
moved  along  heavUy  and  dispiritedly ;  for 
he  began  to  have  a  great  dread  and  many 
misgivings  by  reason  of  the  indifference  with 
which  the  Bodach  appeared  to  regard  the 
issue  of  the  contest. 

"When  the  Bodach  had  slept  some  time  he 
got  up,  washed  his  hands  and  face,  and  hav- 
ing placed  his  bread  and  meat  on  the  table' 
he  proceeded  to  devour  them  with  great  ex- 
pedition, and  then  washed  them  down  with 
his  barrel  of  wine,  after  which  he  collected 
together  all  the  bones  of  the  hog,  and  put 
them  into  a  pocket  in  the  skirt  of  his  coat. 
Then  setting  out  on  his  race  in  compaBy 
with  a  pure  and  cool  breeze,  he  trotted  on 
and  on ;  nor  did  he  ever  halt  in  his  rapid 
course,  until  he  had  overtaken  Ironbones, 
who,  with  a  dejected  air  and  drooping  haad, 
was  wending  his  way  before  him. 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY 


"  The  Bodach  thivvr  dowu  the  bare  boues 
of  the  hog  iu  his  path,  ami  toUl  him  that  he 
waa  quite  welcome  to  them,  aud  that  if  he 
could  And  pickings  ou  them,  he  might  eat 
them. 

".'  For, '  said  he,  '  you  must  surely  be  hun- 
gry by  this  time,  and  myself  can  wait  until 
you  finish  your  breakfast.' 

"  But  Ironbones  got  into  a  great  passion 
on  hearing  this,  and  he  cried : 


■  You  ugly  Bodaeh,  with  the  big  coat, 

fou  greasy,  lubberly,  uncouth  tub  of  a  man, 
would  see  you  hanged,  so  1   would,  before 


you  catch  me  picking  such  dirty  common 
bones  as  these  hog's  bones,  that  have  no  meat 
on  them  at  all,  and  have  moreover  been 
gnawed  by  your  own  long,  ugly,  boarish 
tusks.' 

'"Oh,  very  well,'  replied  the  Bodaeh; 
'then  we  will  not  have  any  more  words 
about  them  few  bones;  but  let  me  recom- 
mend to  you  to  adopt  some  more  rapid  mode 
of  locomotion  if  you  desire  to  gain  the 
crown,  sovereignty,  and  tribute  of  the  king- 
dom of  Ireland  this  turn,  for,  if  you  go  on 
at  your  iiresent  rate,  it  is  second  best  that 
you  will  be  after  coming  off,  I'm  thinking.' 

■'Having  spoken,  off  he  darted  as.swift  as 


March  day;  Ironbones  in  the  meauti 
ing about  as  much  able  to  keep  pace  with 
him  as  he  was  to  scale  the  firmament;  nor 
aid  he  check  his  own  speed  until  he  had  pro- 
ceeded thirty  miles  on  the  course. 

"  He  then  stopped  for  a  while  to  eat  of  the 
blackberries  which  grew  iu  great  abundance 
on  the  way,  and  while  he  was  thus  employed 
Ironbones  came  up  with  him,  and  spoke  to 
him  . 

"  'Bodaeh,'  said  he,  '  ten  miles  behind  us  I 
saw  one  skirt  of  your  gray  coat,  aud  ten 
miles  further  back  again  I  saw  another  skirt; 
and  it  is  my  persuasiou,  and  I  am  clearly  of 
the  opinion,  that  you  ought  to  return  for 
those  two  skirts  without  more  to  do,  and 
pick  them  up.' 

"  '  Is  it  the  skirts  of  this  big  coat  that  I 
have  on  me  you  mean  ?"  asked  the  Bodaeh, 
looking  down  at  his  legs. 

"  '  Why,  to  be  sure  it  is  them  that  I  mean,' 
answered  Ironbones. 

"'Well,'  said  the  Bodaeh,  'I  certainly  must 

fet  my  coat-skirts  again,  and  so  I  will  run 
ack  lor  them  if  you  consent  to  stop  here 
eating  blackberries  until  I  return. 

"  'What  nonsense  you  talk!'  cried  Iron- 
tones.  '  I  tell  you  I  am  decidedly  resolved 
not  to  loiter  in  the  race,  and  my  fixed  deter- 
mination is  not  to  eat  any  blackberries.' 

"  '  Then  move  on  before  me,'  said  the  Bo- 
daeh, upon  which  Ironbones  pushed  on- 
ward, while  the  Bodaeh  retraced  his 
steps  to  the  different  spots  where  the  skirts 


coat,  he  resumed  his  route,  and  again  over- 
took Ironbones,  whom  he  thus  addressed: 

"  '  It  is  needful  and  necessary  that  I  should 
acquaint  you  of  one  thing,  O  Ironbones! 
and  that  is  you  must  run  at  a  faster  rate 
than  you  have  hitherto  used,  and  keep  pace 
with  me  on  the  rest  of  the  course,  or  else 
there  is  much  likelihood  and  considerable 
probability  that  the  victory  will  go  against 
you ;  because  I  will  not  again  have  to  go 
back  either  for  my  coat-skirts  or  anything 
else.' 


nor  did  he  stop  until  he  reached  the  side 
of  a  hill  within  ten  miles  of  Bineadar,  where 
he  again  fell  a-pluoking  blackberries  and  eat 
an  extraordinary  number  of  them. 

"When  he  could  eat  no  more,  his  jaws  be- 
ing tired,  and  his  stomach  stuffed,  he  took 
off  his  great-coat,  and,  handling  his  needle 
and  thread,  he  sewed  it  into  a  form  of  a  ca- 
pacious sack,  which  he  filled  with  black- 
berries. 

"This  he  slung   over   his   shoulders,  and 


buck, 

"  In  the  meantime,  Mnn  and  his  troops 
were  awaiting,  in  great  doubt  and  dread,  for 
theresultof  the  race,  though,  without  know- 
ing who  the  Bodaeh  was,  they  had  a  certain 
degree  of  confidence  in  him,  and  there  was  a 
champion  of  the  Fenians  on  the  top  of  the 
Hill  of  Howth,  who  had  been  sent  thither  by 
Finn,  and  had  been  therefrom  an  early  hour 
of  the  morning  to  see  which  of  the  competi- 
tors would  make  his  appearance  first  in 
view. 

"  When  this  man  saw  the  Bodaeh  coming 
over  the  nearest  eminence,  with  his  heavy 
burden  on  his  back,  he  thought  that,  to  a 
certainty,  it  was  Ironbones  whom  he  beheld, 
and  fled  back  quite  terrified  to  Finn  and  the 


troops,  telling  them  Ironbones  was  coming 
up  carrviug  the  Bodaeh  dead  over  his  shoul- 
ders. 

"This  news  at  first  depressed  Finn  and 
the  troops ;  but  Finn  by  and  by  exclaimed : 

"  I  will  give  a  suit  of  armor  and  art 


brings 


better  news  than 


Z!C 


fors(. 


the  man  whc 
that. 

"  Whereupon  one  of  the  heroes  went  forth, 
and  he  had  not  proceeded  far  when  he  espied 
the  Bodaeh  advancing  toward  the  outposts 
of  the  troops,  and,  knowing  him  at  a  glance, 
he  flew  back  to  Finn  and  announced  to  him 
the  glad  tidings. 

"Finn  thereupon  went  joyfully  out  to 
meet  the  Bodaeh,  who  speedily  came  up  and 
threw  down  his  burden,  crying  out  aloud : 

" '  I  have  good  aud  famous  news  for  all  of 
you;  but,'  added  he, 'my  hunger  is  great 
and  my  desire  for  food  pressing,  and  I  can- 
not tell  you  what  has  occurred  until  I  have 
eaten  a  very  large  quantity  of  oatmeal  and 
blackberries.  Now,  as  for  the  latter— that  is, 
the  blackberries — I  have  got  them  myself  in 
this  big  sack,  but  the  oatmeal  I  expect  to 
be  provided  for  me  by  you,  and  I  hope  that 
you  will  lose  no  time  in  getting  it  and  laying 
it  before  me,  for  I  am  weak  for  the  want  of 
nutriment,  and  my  corporeal  powers  are  be- 
ginning to  be  exhausted.' 

"  Upon  hearing  this  Finn  replied  that  his 
request  should  at  once  be  attended  to,  and, 
in  a  little  space  of  time,  accordingly  there 
was  spread  under  the  Bodaeh  a  cloth  of  great 
length  and  breadth,  with  a  vast  heap  of  oat- 
meal in  the  middle  of  it,  into  which  the  Bo- 
ut all  the  blackberries  in  his 
lug  stirred  the  entire  mass 
time  with  a  long  pole,  he 
(•(iniini'iiieil  f.Tting  and  swallowing  with 
much  rigor  and  determination. 

'•  He  had  not  long  been  occupied  in  this 
way  before  he  descried  Ironbones  coming 
toward  the  troops  with  his  hand  on  the  hilt 
of  his  sword,  his  eyes  flaming  like  red  coals 
in  his  head,  and  ready  to  commence  slaugh- 
tering all  before  him,  because  he  had  been 
vanquished  in  the  contest. 

"  He  was  not  fated  to  put  his  design  into 
execution,  for,  when  the  Bodaeh  saw  what 
wickedness  he  had  in  his  mind,  he  took  up  a 
handful  of  oatmeal  and  blackberries,  and, 
dashing  it  toward  Ironbones  with  an  unerr- 
ing aim  ;  it  struck  him  so  violently  upon  his 
face  that  it  sent  his  head  spinning  through 
the  air  half  a  mile  from  his  body,  which  fell 
to  the  ground  and  there  remained,  writhing 
in  all  the  agonies  of  its  recent  separation 
until  the  Bodaeh  had  concluded  his  meal. 

"  The  Bodaeh  then  rose  up  and  went  in 
quest  of  the  head,  which,  after  a  little 
searching  about,  he  found,  and,  casting  it 
from  his  bands  with  an  unerring  aim,  he 
sent  it  bowling  along  the  ground  all  the  half 
mile  back  again,  until,  coming  to  the  body, 
it  stopped  and  fastened  on  to  it  as  well  as 
ever,  the  only  difference  being  that  the  face 
was  now  turned  completely  around  to  the 
back  of  the  neck,  while  the  back  of  the  head 
was  in  front. 

"The  Bodaeh,  having  accomplished  this 
feat,  much  to  his  satisfaction,  now  grasped 


to  the  ground,  lied  him  hand  and  foot  so 
that  he  could  not  stir,  and  addressed  him  in 
these  words : 

"'O  Ironbones!  justice  has  overtaken 
you.  Thesentence  your  own  vain  mind  had 
passed  on  others  is  about  to  be  pronounced 
against  yourself,  and  all  the  liberty  that  I 
feel  disposed  to  leave  you  is  the  liberty  of 
choosing  what  kind  of  death  you  think  it 
most  agreeable  to  die  of. 

"' What  a  silly  notion  you  did  get  into 
your  noddle,  surely,  when  you  fancied  that 
you,  single-handed,  could  make  yourself 
master  of  the  crown,  sovereignty  and  trib- 
utes of  Ireland,  even  though  there  had  been 
nobody  to  thwart  your  arrogant  designs  but 
myself. 

'' '  Take  comfort  and  be  consoled,  for  it 
shall  never  be  said  of  the  Fenians  of  Ireland 
that  they  took  mortal  vengeance  on  a  single 
foe  without  any  warriors  to  back  him,  and, 
if  you  be  a  person  to  whom  life  is  a  desirable 
possession,  1  am  willing  to  allow  you  to  live 
on  condition  that  you  will  solemnly  swear, 
by  the  sun  and  moon,  that  j'ou  will  send  the 
chief  tributes  of  Thessaly  every  year  to  Finn 
MacCoole  herein  Ireland.' 

"  With  many  wry  faces  did  Ironbones  at 
length  agree  to  take  the  oath,  upon  which 
the  Bodaeh  loosed  his  shackles  and  gave  him 
liberty  to  stand  up ;  then,  having  conducted 
him  toward  the  seashore,  he  made  him  go 
into  the  ship,  to  which,  after  turning  its  prow 
from  the  shore,  he  administered  a  kick  in 
the  stern,  which  sent  it  seven  miles  over  the 
waters  at  once. 

"  Such  was  the  manner  in  which  Ironbones 


executed  his  vainglorious  project;  and  iu 
this  way  he  was  sent  off  from  the  shores  at 
Ireland,  without  victory,  honor  or  glory, 
deprived  of  the  power  of  ever  again  boast- 
ing himself  to  l>e  the  first  man  on  the  earth 
in  battle  or  other  coutests. 

"On  the  return  of  the  Bodaeh  to  the 
troops,  the  sun  and  the  wind  lighted  up  one 
side  of  his  face  and  head  in  such  a  way  that 
Fin  and  the  Fiau  at  once  recognized  him  as 
Manaunan  MaeSir,  the  tutelary  fairy  of 
Cruachan,  who  had  come  to  afford  them  his 
assistance  in  their  exigency. 

"They  welcomed  him  accordingly  with  all 
the  honor  that  was  due  to  him,  and  feasted 


an-Chota-Laehtna. ' ' 

"An' very  arausin'  adventures  they  are, 
too,"  said  Denny  Byrne.  "  Bedad  if  the  Fe- 
nians of  to-day  war  as  good  as  the  Fenian» 
of  Finn  MacCoole's  time,  what  a  glorioiiiv 


TERRIBLt 


CHAPTEK  XV. 

FIGHTING     PAT      MENACED      BY 
DANGEB. 

Major  Hynes  had,  by  the  most  extraordi- 
nary  good  fortune,  escaped  the  fatal  effect.' 
of  tlie  hand-grenade  thrown  into  the  camp- 
fire  by  Fighting  Pat. 

Two  men  on  his  right  were  instant!;! 
killed,  while  three  on  his  left  were  seriously 
wounded. 

The  explosion  was  deafening,  throwini; 
the  guerrillas  into  such  confusion  that  Fight- 
ing Pat,  ere  they  could  recover  themselves., 
was  a  considerable  distance  on  his  way — th(^ 
wrong  way,  however,  as  he  subsequentlj 
discovered,  to  his  no  little  annoyance  ancli 
disgust. 

As  the  reader  is,  of  course,  acquainted! 
with  all  this,  it  remains  now  for  us  to  fol- 
low the  guerrilla  chief  back  to  his  camp. 

Never  were  men  more  disgusted  than  the 
rebels  when  they  had  re-entered  the  glade; 
for  a  Unionist  to  come  into  their  camp,  as 
Mooney  had  done,  work  so  much  destruc- 
tion, and  then  escape,  was  more  than  they 
could  understand. 

In  fact,  they  did  not  believe  that  any  man 
living  had  the  hardihood  to  attempt,  let 
alone  accomplish  such  an  act  of  daring — for 
daring  it  was,  beyond  the  question  of  a 
doubt ;  and  yet,  had  they  been  but  acquaint- 
ed slightly  with  Fighting  Pat's  character, 
they  would  not  have  been  greatly  surprisetl 
at  what  he  had  done. 

As  it  was,  there  had  been  only  one  person 
in  the  glade  at  the  time  who  had  recognized 
him— and  this  was  Major  Hynes,  the_ treach- 
erous officer  of  Meagher's  brigade.    ' 

Hynes  did  not  at  first  let  on  that  he  knew 
the  scout — oh,  dear,  no.  He  kept  that  to 
himself. 

Some  members  of  the  command  of  the 
guerrilla  leader  had  made  the  discovery 
long  before  that  there  were  two  other  Un- 
ionists concealed  in  the  forest. 

In  fact,  about  seven  or  eight  of  them  had 
come  suddenly  upon  Frank  and  Denny, 
while  they  were  anxiously  awaiting  the  re- 
turn of  Fighting  Pat. 

These  the  guerrillas  had  pursued  for  some 
time,  then  finally  lost  sight  of  them  alto- 
gether, and  returned  to  report  the  fact  to 
their  chief,  which  had  the  effect  of  putting 
the  whole  force  on  the  alert. 

Over  a  hundred  men  were  sent  in  various 
directions  to  intercept  them,  and  every 
avenue  from  the  forest  was  jealously 
guarded,  in  the  hopes  of  being  enabled 
finally  to  effect  their  capture. 

Now  we  come  to  a  point  where  Jerry 
Hynes  and  the  colonel  of  the  "  Irregulars'' 
were  holding  a  quiet  discussion,  which,  in 
the  main,  referred  to  Corcoran  and  his 
Legion. 

'The  colonel  had  obtained  from  Jeriy  that 
which  he  considered  information  of  value  to 
the  Confederacy,  and  he  had  no  doubt  that 
if  matters  were  worked  iiropeily  he,  his 
men,  and  a  certain  Tennessee  cavalry  regi- 
ment, would  succeed  iu  making  Corcoran 
and  his  force  prisoners.  He  had  also  simi- 
lar designs  on  Meagher's  brigade,  and  hoped, 
with  reinforcements  of  infantry  aud  caval- 
ry, which  the  Confederacy  would  place  at 
his  disposal,  to  be  able  eventually  to  scoop 
the  Irish  forces  into  Southern  military  pris- 
ons, at  least  those  who  were  left  of  them ; 
but  Major  Jerry  Hynes  was  not  the  man  to 
work  without  hope  of  reward. 

He  very  frankly  intimated  that  he  was  in 
no  great  love  with  Federals  or  Confederates, 
simply  looking  upon  the  whole  thing  as  a 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


13 


business  speculatiou.  by  whk'li  he  hopea  iukI 
expected   to   reap  goocl    jiroftts,  witL    little 


—from  the  v.M.v  fuet   tbiit   I   have  not  lived 

"  Fiankly  spolifii,"  said  the  gueiTilla 
ehieltaiii,  lauglim^.  "Had  you  said  auy- 
tbiuy  else  uuder  the  circumstances,  I  should 
not  have  believed  you— pardon  me  for  so 
saying.       And     now     about     your     Irish 


-  „nig.       _. 

friends?" 

"I  love  them  about  as  much  as  the  devil 
loves  holy  water,"  said  Jerry,  bluutly.  "I 
am  neither  Irish  by  descent,  nor  am  I  Irish 
insvmpathy." 

"  Then  why  did  you  join  their  ranks  ?" 

"  Simply  because  it  suited  my  purpose," 
the  rascal  answered.  "You  perceive,"  he 
added,  with  a  disagreeable  chuckle,  "  I 
mean  to  be  frank  and  truthful  to  the 
end." 

"That  is  so  long  as  it  suits  your  purpose," 
said  the  other,  with  a  slight  touch  of  sar- 
casm in  his  tones. 

"E.xactly  so." 

"  How  would  a  command  in  our  service 
suit  you?" 

"Not  at  all.    There's  no  money  in  it." 

"How  do  you  know  that?"  asked  the 
guerrilla  colouel,  sharply. 

"I  can  form  a  pret'y  s'hrewd  guess." 

"You  area  stjaUL'e  lVU.n\ .' 

"That  I  have  been  t..M  l.etore  to-day," 
replied  the  traitor.  ■  liiit,  joking  aside,"  he 
continued,  "I  can  do  all  1  have  told  you, 
and  more,  too  ;  Imt  1  have  my  price." 

the  guerrilla's  contemptuous  reply. 

He  was  unable  even  to  suppress  a  shrug  of 
disgust  at  Jerry's  coldblooded  manner  of 
viewing  things ;  for,  bad  as  he  was,  he  was  a 
veritable  augel  of  light  when  compared  to 
Jerry  Hynes. 

But  he  was  a  man,  nevertheless,  who  cared 
little  for  the  instrument  he  employed,  so 
long  as  thatinstrumentenabled  him  to  carry 
out  his  plans  successfully. 

"What  is  your  opinion  of  Corcoran's 
merits  as  a  general  ?"  was  the  next  query. 

Major  Hynes  shrugged  his  shoulders  with 
contempt,  as  he  replied : 

"I  don't  think  much  of  his  general- 
ship." 

"  He  has  not  been  tried  yet  ?" 

"Granted." 

"You  cannot  deny  that  he  is  a  brave 
man?" 

"A  brave  man  does  not  always  make  a 
good  general,"  said  Hynes,  and  very  truth- 
fully. "You  have  many  brave  commanders, 
tor  instance,  in  the  Confederacy,  but  few 
good  generals.  Corcoran,  in  my  opinion,  is 
rash  and  impetuous— brave  and  daring  he 
undoubtedly  is- but  these  are  qualities  very 
often  possessed  by  fools.  Betweeen  you  and 
me,"  continued  Hynes,  "you'll  have  no 
trouble  in  gobbling  Corcoran  up  if  you  act 
circumspectly.  Follow  my  advice,  pay  well 
for  that  advice,  and,  my  word  for  it.  Gen- 
eral Corcoran  will  be  In  a  Southern  prison 
ere  another  month  passes  over  his  head.  If 
you  don't  follow  my  advice,  he  is  likely  to 
encounter  Pryor;  and,  as  Pryor's  general- 
ship don't  amount  to  a  row  of  pins,  using 
your  own  classical  phrase,  Pryor  will  be 
worsted,  and  Corcoran  promoted.  That  is 
just  how  the  matter  stands." 

"How  do  you  know  that  Corcoran  will 
meet  Pryor?"  asked  the  guerriUa  colonel, 
curiously. 

"Everything  points  that  way." 

"Sure?" 

"  As  sure  as  I  have  two  hands  on  my  body. 
And  let  me  further  tell  you— if  they  are  al- 
lowed to  meet,  the  fight  will  take  place  in 
the  neighborhood  of  the  Blackwater." 

"You  seem  to  lie  pretty  well  posted," 
laughed  the  colouel.  "The  fact  Is,  Pryor 
means  fortifyiug  some  heights  in  that  direc- 
tion. He  may  have  already  done  so.  And 
now,  about  Me.agher  ?" 

"  He  is  a  man  of  different  caliber." 

"How?" 

"You  seem  to  kuow  nothi»g  about  him?" 

"A^ery  little." 

"  Then,  let  me  enlighten  you.  He  is  one 
of  the  few  impetuous,  headstrong  men,  who 
possess  real  military  genius;  and  in  ray 
opinion,  as  an  all-round  man,  he  hasn't  his 
superior  on  this  continent.  He  is  not  only 
a  sound  general,  a  great  orator,  but,  in  my 
opinion,  a  great  statesman  as  well.  Let 
them  once  give  him  the  chance,  and  he'll 
show  them  what  he  is  made  of." 

"  This  is  your  hero." 


•Not  at  all." 

'You     eulogize     Meagher,    because    you 

ve  a  grudge  against  Corcoran— isn't  that 

■  V.Mi  are  wrong— the  two  men,  however, 

■  iioi  lit  to  be  named  in  the  same  breath. 
i-onally,   I  dou't  like   either   of   them— 

.^  I '   too  Irisli  for  me;  consequently  there 


'I'lioicivai  little  doubt  of  one  fact,  how- 
ever—.Terry  Ilyues  hated  the  gallant  Michael 
with  a  lieree  and  bitter  hatred. 

He  never  forgave  the  nigh'c  that  Major 
Mahou  threw  the  glass  of  wine  in  his  face, 
nor  the  fact  that  he  had  been  driven  igno- 
miniously  from  the  camp. 

Whenever  the  chance  presented  itself, 
therefore,  the  poisonous  drop  in  his  nature 
would  show  itself  in  his  lying  abuse  of  Cor- 
coran's geuerstlship. 

This  at  last  had  become  a  favorite  theme 
with  him. 

The  man  to  whom  he  was  speaking,  how- 
ever, weighed  his  criticism  for  what  it  was 
worth— in  fact,  he  had  put  its  true  value 
upon  it. 

During  one  of  the  pauses  in  this  conversa- 
tion, about  half  a  dozen  guerrillas  entered 
the  glade. 

Thev  were  men,  apparently,  who  had  been 
on  duty  of  some  kind,  for,  as  the  lurid  light 
of  the  camp-fire  fell  upon  them,  Jerry 
Hynes  discovered  that  each  man  carried, 
besides  bis  carbine,  a  brace  of  revolvers  and 

They  were  all  burly,  strong  fellows,  of  an 
aspect  not  altogether  pleasing— in  fact,  a 
more  ferocious  looking  lot  of  bandits  the  eye 
of  man  never  beheld. 

The  leader— a  stalwart  six-footer— left  his 
men,  and,  approaching  his  colonel,  saluted 
him. 

"Well,  Jonkin,"  said  his  commaiuler, 
brusquely,  "what  is  it?" 

"  I  would  speak  with  you  alone,"  said  the 
man,  "  if  you  have  time." 

"Very  well.    Isit  anything  important?" 

"It  is." 

The  man  stole  a  furtive  glance  at  Major 
Hynes. 

"  Will  you  excuse  me  a  moment,  major?" 
said  the  colonel. 

"  Most  certainly." 

The  two  men  walked  to  one  side,  and 
stood  talking  earnestly  for  a  couple  of 
minutes. 

"What's  in  the  wind  now,"  thought 
Hvnes;  "and  why  did  that  black-muzzled 
fellow  look  so  scrutinizingly  at  me?" 

The  colonel  of  the  guerrillas  dismissed  the 
man,  and  came  back. 

"  Did  you  recognize  the  fellow  who  chuck- 
ed the  hand-grenade  into  the  camp-fire?"  he 
asked,  abruptly. 

"Why?" 

"Did  you?" 

"Yes."^' 


"I  have  no  doubt  of  that,"  rejoined 
Hyues;  "  that  is,  if  you  are  fool  enough  to 
let  him." 

"Who  is  he?" 

"  A  simple  private  in  the  Irish  Legion.' 

"And  his  name?" 

"You  seem  to  be  greatly  interested  in 
him  ?"  said  Hynes,  with  a  slight  sneer. 

"  I  am  so,  and  have  good  cause  to  be ;  as  I 


his  name 

"  His  name  is  Mooney,  and  in  the  Legion 
he  is  known  uuder  the  sobriquet  of  '  Fight- 
ing Pat,'  and  an  incarnate  devil  to  fight  he 


asked  the  guerrilla. 

"  Ay,  indeed,  and  more  than  once;  and,  to 
tell  the  good,  honest  truth,  I'd  rather  have 
no  more  of  it.  He's  the  worst  man  in  a  row 
I  ever  came  across." 

"  A  regular  fire-eater,"  said  the  colonel. 
"That's  the  very  man  I  want  to  meet.  We 
will  put  a  stop  to  his  fire-eating  befote  to- 
mono  '  " 
who  e: 

"Ye 

"  Well,  it  was  he  that  brought  me  word  of 
this  fire-eater  of  yours." 

"  Heis  in  the  forest  then  still?" 

The  guerrilla  nodded. 

"Yes,  in  the  forest,"  he  proceeded,  "  and 
sheltered  by  a  man  on  whom  I  would  have 
depended  my  life  ere  this  happened. 

"The  old  woodcutter  you  were  speaking 
of?" 

"The  same.  One  of  my  scouts  happened 
to  track  the  twain  to  the  cave  about  two 
miles  from  here.  It  is  set  in  the  face  of  a 
solid  mass  of  granite,  and  so  bountifully  has 


nature  enveloped  it  with  thick  masses  of 
vegetation  that  it  would  have  remained  un- 
discovered till  the  crack  of  doom  for  me. 
I  havepa.>i>.Ml  the  sjiot  five  hundred  times, 
and  nevci  mih.-  dTeained  of  such  a  place." 

"What  .lo  you  propose  doing?"  asked 
Hynes,  who  r.x'pei  ieiieed  a  fierce  joy  at  the 
prospect  of  I'at  falling  iuto  the  hands  of  the 
guerrilla  chief. 

"What  do  I  propose  doing?"  hissed  his 
companion.  "  I  propose  putting  them  all  to 
death  by  the  most  horrible  means  I  can 
think  of.  I  shall  throw  enough  combusti- 
bles into  the  cavern  to  inflict  on  them  the 
tortures  of  the  damned.  The  man  who  de- 
ceives me  once  has  no  second  chance.  He 
dies  with  the  rest!" 


COLONEL 


OF     THE     ROYAL 


CHAPTER   XV: 

RASPERS. 

The  Irish  Legion,  after  several  brushes 
with  the  enemy,  had  encamped  on  the  banks 
of  a  small  stream,  from  which  the  general 
had  dispatched  the  three  scouts  to  ascer- 
tain the  state  of  the  couutry  south  of  them. 

As  Fighting  Pat  and  his  two  companions 
were  longer  away  than  was  expected,  very 
grave  doubts  began  to  be  experienced  by 
Corcoran  and  his  officers  as  to  their  safety. 

Perhaps  they  had  been  shot  down,  or, what 
was  more  likely,  made  prisoners  by  the 
enemy,  so  that  considerable  uneasiness  was 
manifested  in  camp  on  their  account. 

General  Corcoran,  Mahon  and  Courtenay 
sat  in  the  latter's  tent  enjoying  some  flu» 
Havana  cigars  and  a  glass  or  two  of  wine. 

"I  tell  you  what,  geueral,"  said  Courte- 
nay, breaking  the  silence,  "that  young  fel- 
low. Fighting  Pat,  as  he's  called,  would  be  a 
great  loss  to  us  just  now." 

"  X  great  loss  to  us  at  any  time,"  said  Ma- 
jor Mahon.  "He  is  one  of  the  best  aud 
most  fearless  scouts  I  ever  met." 

"He  is  the  king  of  them  all,"  echoed 
~^' — =--^!  -■'-  'and  a  fine. 
Why  not  give  him  a 
commission,  general?"  appealing  directly 
to  the  gallant  Michael. 

"Why?" 

"  Yes,  I  should  like  to  know  ichy  ?" 

"Simply  for  one  good,  honest  reason— he 
would  not  accept  it.  He  entered  the  Legion 
a  private,  and  'tis  his  fixed  determination  to 
go  out  as  one." 

"That's  a  pity,"  said  Mahon. 

"It's  more  than  a  pity— it's  a  shame," 
added  Courtenay.  "  How  the  devil  any  man 
can  object  to  a  commission  is  more  than  I 
can  quite  understand ;  and,  coming  to  think, 
I  believe  my  principal  reason  for  leaving  the 
British  army  was  from  the  fact  that  promo- 
tion came  too  slow,  and  I  didn't  care  about 
buying  above  men  who  had  grown  gray  in 
the  service.  Now,  I  really  don't  think  I 
should  feel  offended  if  they  sent  me  my 
colonel's  commission  to-morrow— I  mean 
those  snail-paced  people  in  Washington, 
who,  by  Jove,  have  as  much  red  tape  about 
them  as  the  English.  Welcome,  O'Shaugh- 
nessy!  Welcome,  my  boy!  Come  in  here, 
and  join  us!  How's  every  bit  of  you,  old 
man?" 

The  last  words  were  addressed  to  a  young 
officer  who  had  suddenly  entered  the  tent, 
aud  finding  that  Courtenay  had  company, 
was  about  to  beat  a  hasty  retreat  when 
Courtenay  pinned  him,  so  to  speak. 

Tom? 

"  I  haven't  that  honor,"  replied  the  young 
lieutenant,  who  was  a  member  of  the  Irish 
brigade  and  on  General  Thomas  Francis 
Meagher's  staff. 

"This,  general,  is  mv  old  friend.  Lieuten- 
ant O'Shaughnessy,  late  of  Killinhalon  Cas- 
tle, County  Dublin;  and  this,  Tom,  is  Gen- 
eral Corcoran,  the  gallant  chief  of  the  Irish 
Legion,  to  which  I  have  the  honor  to  be- 
long." 

As  Mahon    had   been   introduced  to  him 


all  round,  the  conversation  was  resumed. 

"  Do  you  think,  geueral,  that  your  scouts 
are  in  the  hands  of  the  graycoats ?"  said 
Courtenay,  leading  him  back  to  the  subject 
upon  which  they  had  been  speaking  prior 
to  the  entrance  of  Lieutenant  O'Shaugh- 
nessy. 

"  I  really  don't  know  what  to  think,"  re- 
plied Corcoran.  "They  are  certainly  much 
beyond  their  time,  but  they  may  have  been 
delayed  through  various  causes." 

"I  think  we  may  safely  conclude,"  said 
Mahon,  "  that  Pat  will  steer  clear  of  difficul- 
ties, if  there  be  a  possibility  of  doing  so ;  and 
you  may  depend  he  has  got  everything  con- 


14 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


cerning  the  graycoats  liy  this  down  to  a  flne 
point." 

"That  is,  if  they  haven't  gobbled  him  up," 
said  Couitenay,  "laughing.  "  But  this  is  a 
dry  subject,  geutlemeu— drink!" 

"You'll  have  us  three  sheets  in  the  wind 
before  we  know  where  we  are,"  said  Mahon, 
jocularly.     "Good  health,  gentlemen!" 

"Good  health!"  "Good  health!"  came 
from  around  the  table. 

"  I  hear  Pryor  is  going  to  give  you  a  tough 
time  of  it,  general,"  said  young  O'Shaugh- 


"  He's  already  fortifying  the  heights  above 
the  Blackwater,  and  he  says  he  will  hold 
out  till  the  crack  of  doom,  if  necessary." 

"Pryor  is  a  boaster,"  said  Corcoran,  con- 
temptuously ;  "  but,  really,  this  is  the  first 
time  I  have  heard  that  he  has  formed  such 
an  intention.  However,  let  him  fortify 
away,  and  then  we'll  fall  upon  him  and  take 
his  impregnable  position." 

The  general  emphasized  "impregnable," 


long  for  the  return  of  Fighting  Pat.  Nor 
did  he  really  intend  allowing  Pryor  to  go  on 
longer  than  he  could  possibly  help  with  his 
work  of  fortifying  the  heights  above  the 
Blackwater. 

By  this  time  the  whole  party  was  getting 
pretty  jolly  over  their  wine  and  cigars. 

Courtenay  called  upon  O'Shaughnessy  to 
relate  a  particular  incident  in  his  father's 
life,  with  which  he  was  wont  to  wind  up  a 
convivial  evening. 

After  considerable  urging,  Tom  O'Shaugh- 
nessy was  prevailed  upon  to  go  on  with  his 
narrative. 

It  is  a  very  amusing  experience,  as  the 
reader  will  be  apt  to  agree ;  and  here  goes, 
without  further  preamble : 

"My  father,"  said  Tom,  "for  reasons  best 
known  in  the  King's  Bench,  si)eut  a  great 
many  years  of  his  life  iu  that  jiait  <<(  lii-land 
geographically  known  as  Ivint:  west  of  thi- 
law,  and  w;is  obliged  tor  oeitaiu  reasons  of 
family,  of  course,  to  come  to  Dublin  at  cer- 
tain long  intervals. 

"He  never  proceeded  on  a  journey  of  the 
kind  without  due  caution — two  trusty  serv- 
ants formed  an  advance  guard,  and  patrolled 
the  county  for  at  least  live  miles  in  advance; 
after  them  came  a  skirmishing  body  of  a  few 
tenants,  who,  for  the  consideration  of  never 
paying  rent,  would  have  charged  the  whole 
Court  of  Chancery,  if  needful. 

"  One  fine  morning,  a  stout  escort  of  his 
followers  were,  as  usual,  under  arms,  to  see 
him  safe  in  the  chaise,  the  passage  to  and 
from  which  every  day  being  the  critical  mo- 
ment of  my  father's  life. 

"  '  It's  all  right,  your  honor,'  said  his  own 
man,  as,  armed  with  a  blunderbuss,  he  open- 
ed the  bedroom  door. 

"'Time  enough,  Tim,'  said  my  father; 
'close  the  door,  for  I  haven't  finished  my 
breakfast.' 

"Now,  the  real  truth  was,  that  my  father's 
attention  was  at  that  moment  withdrawn 
from  his  own  concerns  by  a  scene  which  was 
taking  place  in  a  field  beneath  his  window. 

"  A  few  moments  before  a  hack  had  stopped 
upon  the  roadside,  out  of  which  sprung 
three  gentleman,  who,  proceeding  to  the 
field,  seemed  bent  upon  something,  which, 
whether  a  survey  or  a  duel,  my  father  could 
not  make  out. 

"  He  was  not  long,  however,  to  remain  in 
ignorance. 

"One,  with  an  easy  lounging  gait,  strode 
toward  a  distant  corner;  another  took  an 
opposite  direction ;  while  a  third,  a  short, 
pursy  gentleman  in  a  red  handkerchief  and 
a  rabbit-skin  waistcoat,  proceeded  to  open  a 
mahogany  box,  which,  to  the  critical  eyes  of 
my  respected  father,  was  agreeably  sugges- 
tive of  bloodshed  and  murder. 

"'A  duel,  by  Jupiter!'  said  my  father, 
rubbing  his  bauds.  '  What  a  heavenly  morn- 
ing the  scoundrels  have — not  a  leaf  stirrine:, 
and  a  sod  like  a  billiard  table.' 

"  Meanwhile,  the  little  man  who  ofhciated 
as  second.  It  would  appear  to  both  parties, 
bustled  about  with  an  activity  little  congenial 
to  his  shape;  and,  what  with  suappiug  the 
pistols,  examining  the  flints  and  ramming 
down  the  charges,  had  got  himself  into  suf- 
ficient perspiration  before  he  commenced  to 
measure  off  the  ground. 

"  •  Short  distance,  and  no  quarter ! '  shouted 
one  of  the  combatants. 

"'Across  a  handkerchief,  if  you  like!' 
roared  the  other. 

"' Gentlemen— every  inch  of  them!'  re- 
sponded my  father. 

" '  Twelve  paces ! '  cried  the  little  man.  '  No 
more  and  no  less.  Don't  forget  that  I'm 
alone  iu  this  business. ' 


" '  A  very  true  remark  !'  observed  my  fa- 
ther; 'and  an  awkward  predicament  yours 
will  be  if  they  are  both  shot!' 

"By  this  time  the  combatants  had  taken 
their  places,  and  the  little  man,  having  de- 
livered his  pistols,  was  leisurely  retiring  to 
give  the  word. 

"My  father,  however,  whose  critical  eye 
was  nevei-  at  fault,  detected  a  circumstance 
w  hich  promised  an  immense  advantage  to 
one  at  the  expense  of  the  other ;  in  fact,  one 
of  the  parties  was  so  placed  with  his  back  to 
the  sun,  that  his  shadow  extended  in  a 
straight  liue  to  the  very  foot  of  his  antago- 
nist. 

"  '  Unf air— uuf au- ! '  cried  my  father,  open- 
ing the  window  as  he  spoke,  and  addressing 
himself  to  him  of  the  rabbit-skiu.  '  I  crave 
your  pardon  for  the  interruption,'  said  he; 
'  but  I  feel  bound  to  observe  ttiat  that  gen- 
tleman's shadow  is  likely  to  make  a  shade 
of  him.' 

"'So  it  is,'  observed  the  short  man;  'a 
thousand  thanks  for  your  kindness ;  but  the 
truth  is  I  am  totally  unaccustomed  to  this 
sort  of  thing,  and  the  affair  will  notadmitof 
delay.' 

"'Not  an  hour!'  said  one. 

"  '  Not  five  minutes !'  growled  the  other  of 
the  combatants. 

"  '  Put  them  north  and  south,'  said  my  fa- 
ther. 

'"Is  it  thus?' 

"'Exactly  so;  but  now  again  the  gentle- 
man in  the  brown  coat  is  <'overed  with  the 
ash  tree.' 

"'So  he  is!'  said  rabbit^skin,  wiping  his 
forehead  with  agitation, 

"  'Move  them  a  little  to  the  left,'  said  he. 

"  '  That  brings  me  upon  an  eminence,'  said 
the  gentleman  in  blue.  '  I'll  not  be  made  a 
cock-shot  of.' 

" '  What  an  awkward  little  thing  it  is  in 
the  haii-y  waistcoat !'  said   my  father;  'he's 

•■■'.\Ia\l  iM'xrr:  i(  liii  nut  >irk  of  you 
Ih.iIi''  i-i.H'Ml:u.'.l  r■:lllhit-^klll,  in  a  passiou. 
•I'v.-nn.ve.l  you  ),.nn(l  cyt-i-y  [.oiutof  the 
compass,  aud  the  sorrow  a  liearei-  we  are 
than  ever.' 

'• '  Give  us  the  word,'  said  one. 

'"The  word!' 

"  'Downright  murder!'  said  my  father. 

'"I  don't  care,' said  the  little  man;  'we 
shall  be  here  till  doomsday ! ' 

'"I  can't  permit    this,'   said    my   father. 

'  Allow  me '    So  saying,  he  stepped  upon 

the  window-sill  and  leaped  down  into  the 
field. 

"  '  Before  I  can  accept  of  your  politeness,' 
said  he,  of  the  rabbit-skin,  '  may  I  beg  to 
know  your  name  and  position  in  society  ?' 

" 'Nothing  more  reasonable,' said  my  fa- 
ther. '  I'm  Miles  O'Shaughnessy,  colonel  of 
the  Royal  Raspers;  here  is  my  card.' 

"  The  piece  of  pasteboard  was  complacent- 
ly handed  from  one  to  the  other  of  the  party, 
who  saluted  my  father  with  a  smile  of  most 
courteous  beuiguity. 

"  '  Colonel  0'Shaughues.sy,'  said  one. 

"  '  Miles  O'Shaughuessy,'  said  another. 

" '  Of  Killenhalou  Castle,'  said  a  third. 

"  '  A,t  your  service,'  said  my  father,  bow- 
ing as  he  presented  his  snuff-box  ;  '  and  now 
to  business,  if  you  please;  for  my  time  also 
is  limited.' 

"'Very  true,'  observed  the  rabbit-skin, 
'  and  as  you  observe,  now  to  business,  in  vir- 
tue of  which.  Colonel  Miles  O'Shaughnessy,  I 
hereby  arrest  you  in  the  king's  name.  Here 
is  the  writ:  it's  the  suit  of  Barnaby  Kelly, 
of  Loughrea,  for  the  sum  of  £l,58319s.  7., 
which ' 

"Before  he  could  conclude  the  sentence, 
my  father  discharged  one  obligation,  by  im- 


tioued,  sent  the  little  fellow  somerseting 
like  a  sugar  hogshead. 

"  It  was  of  no  avail. 

"  The  others,  strong  and  able-bodied,  fell 
both  upon  him,  aud  after  a  desperate  strug- 
gle succeeded  in  getting  him  down. 

"  To  tie  his  hands  and  convey  him  to  the 
chaise  was  the  work  of  a  few  moments,  and 
as  my  father  drove  by  the  inn,  the  last  ob- 
ject which  caught  his  view  was  a  bloody  en- 
couuter  between  his  own  people,  and  the 
myrmidons  of  the  law,  who  in  great  num- 
bers had  laid  siege  to  the  house  during  his 
capture. 

"Thus  was  my  father  taken,  and  thus,  in 
reward  of  yielding  to  a  virtuous  weakness  iu 
his  character,  was  he  consigned  to  the  ig- 
nominious durance  of  a  prison." 

The  story  was  capitally  told,  and  produced 
considerable  amusement  as  well  as  laughter, 
whereupon  they  had  another  drink;  then 
Corcoran  was  suddenlj;  called  away,  an  im- 
portant messenger  having  arrived  in  camp. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


WITH       THF 


The  messenger  who  had  arrived  in  camp 
happened  to  be  Morgan's  son,  who,  as  the 
reader  is  already  aware,  had  been  dispatch- 
ed by  his  father  with  an  account  of  the  peril 
of  the  three  scouts,  as  well  as  other  matters 
of  an  equally  important  character. 

The  orderly  who  came  tor  General  Cor- 
coran, led  him  to  where  the  messenger 
stood  awaiting  him. 

Morgan's  son  had  dismounted  from  his 
tired  steed,  aud  had  the  reins  thrown  over 
his  left  arm ,  as  the  general  came  up. 

In  his  right,  he  was  toying  with  a  riding 
whip. 

Corcoran's  keen  eye  wandered  from  horse 
to  rider. 

The  latter  was  as  fine  a  specimen  of  a  man 
as  ever  the  general  saw  in  his  life— not  even 
excepting  Fighting  Pat,  who  was  the  most 
handsome,  athletic  soldier  in  the  Legion." 

As  the  general  came  up,  the  messenger  sa^ 
luted  respectfully. 

"  Do  you  bear  dispatches?"  said  Corcoran. 

"Not  quite,  general.  I  have  been  sent 
here  by  my  father  to  give  you  certain  in- 
formation." 

"Your  father!    Do  I  know  him,  then?" 

"  I  believe  not,  general.  I  don't  think  you 
have  ever  even  met  him." 

"Then  why,"  said  Corcoran,  with  a  tinge 
of  suspicion,  "does  he  take  so  much  interest 
in  my  affairs?" 

"  He  is  a  good  Unionist." 

"Ah,  yes?" 

"  And  au  Irishman.    Besides " 

The  messenger  hesitated. 

"  Well?"  said  the  general.    "  Proceed." 

"  I  have  come  to  inform  you  of  the  danger 
threatening  three  scouts  claiming  to  belong 
to  your  command." 

Corcoran  was  at  once  intereated. 

"Three  scouts,  you  say?" 

"  Yes,"  was  the  messenger's  reply. 

"  Do  you  know  their  names?"  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  I  have  heard  them.  Have  you  three 
men  out,  general,  who  answer  to  the  follow- 
ing :  Fighting  Pat,  Denny  and  Frank  ?" 

"  Those  are  the  very  men,"  said  Corcoran, 
hurriedly.  "But  tell  me  the  nature  of  th« 
danger  that  threatens  them  ?" 

Young  Morgan  briefly  recapitulated  most 
of  what  is  already  known  to  the  reader;  also 
the  fact  that  the  forest  was  a  hotbed  of  guer- 
rilladom,  and  had  been  so  for  a  considerable 
time. 

"That  den  wants  wiping  out,"  said  Cor- 
coran, grimly;  "  and,  instead  of  attacking 
and  surprising  us,  we'll  attack  and  surprise 
them.  Are  the  three  scouts  in  any  immedi- 
ate danger?" 

"  Ha,  that  is  more  than  I  can  say.  General 
Corcoran,"  said  the  young  man.  "The  guer- 
rillas are  guarding  every  outlet  from  the 
forest,  and  in  this  they  are  assisted  by  two 
Tennessee  regiments  encamped  on  the  other 
side  of  the  wood.  Agaifi  let  me  tell  you, 
general,"  continued  the  stalwart  messenger, 
eagerly,  "  that  if  any  great  troub  e  had  be- 
fallen your  command,  you  might  owe  mostly 
all  of  it  to  a  pretended  officer  of  Meagher's 
brigade— Major  Hynes,  he  calls  himself!" 

"What?  Jerry  Hynes!"  exclaimed  Cor- 
coran, scarcely  believing  his  ears.  "  I  can 
hardly  credit  this.  Coward  he  is,  and  villain ; 
but  I  can  hardly  think  that  he  would  have 
the  temerity  or  boldness  to  play  the  role  of 
traitor  and  spy.  By  my  honor,  if  that  which 
you  advance  against  him  turns  out  to  be 
true,  he  shall  dearly  rue  the  day  and  hour  he 
joined  Meaeher's  brigade!" 

"      11  vouch  for  the  truth  of  what  I  state 


with  my  life,  general,"  said  the  messenger, 
earnestly.  "The  man  Hynes  is  a  double-dyed 
traitor  and  villain,  and  he  may  be  even  now 
bartering  the  blood  of  the  noble  Meagher.    I 


was  an  eye-witness  to  his  treachery,  not  two 
nights  since,  and,  believe  me,  he  means  to 
sell  you  both." 

"Both?" 

"  Yes ;  the  gallant  Meagher  and  yourself." 

"  This  must  be  seen  to,  and  at  once,"  said 
the  general. 

Corcoran  dismissed  the  messenger  for  the 
time  being,  and  summoned  the  officers  of  the 
Legion  together  to  consult  as  to  the  best 
means  of  relieving  the  three  scouts,  as  well 
as  administering  severe  chastisement  to  the 
guerrillas. 

It  was  decided  to  march  at  once. 

Six  hundred  men  were  selected  and  pushed 
forward,  and,  as  they  neared  the  wood  where 
the  guerrillas  were  encamped,  a  perfect  fus- 
illade of  buUets  met  them. 

They  had  been  Jlred  at  by  a  troop  of  the 
enemy. 


THE  WAR  LilSRARY. 


15 


"Forward!  Charge!"  exclaimed  the  ofB- 
cers  of  the  various  companies. 

Theu  the  men,  with  a  loud  cheer,  broke 
for  the  timber,  and,  in  five  minutes,  not  a 
guerrilla  was  to  be  seen. 

They  had  scampered  off  through  the  wood 
as  fast  as  their  legs  could  carry  them. 

Led  on  by  young  Morgan,  the  lioys  of  the 
Irish  Legion  pushed  for  the  glade,  some  scat- 
tering shots  meeting  them  as  they  went. 

To  these  they  paid  little  heed,  and,  reach- 
ing the  open,  they  were  confronted  deter- 
minedly for  the  first  time. 

Nothing  could  withstand  the  onset  of  the 
Irish. 

The  guerrillas  were  driven  before  them 
like  chaff  before  the  wind. 

In  less  than  twenty  minutes  not  a  rebel 
■was  to  be  seen  ;  but  it  must  be  confessed  that 
Corcoran  had  a  force  of  over  two  to  their 
one. 

Where  were  the  scouts  ? 

They  were  evidently  not  prisoners,  or  they 
would  have  been  discovered  bound  in  the 
glade  upon  the  tlight  of  the  Confederates. 

Whei-e  were  they  ? 

This  was  a  question  at  that  moment  most 
difficult  to  answer,  for  even  young  Morgan 
had  disappeared. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

CONCLrSION. 

We  may  now  return  to  the  rocky  cavern  in 
which  we  had  left  Fighting  Pat  and  his 
companion  the  previous  night. 

Morning  had  scarcely  broken  when  the 
sound  of  mauy  voices  lame  upon  their  ears. 

Fighting  Pat,  a  light  sleeper  at  any  time, 
leaped  instantly  to  his  feet. 

He  listened  to  the  souuds  that  came  float- 
ing into  the  cavern. 

There  was  no  mistaking  them  ;  and  who- 
ever the  parties  were  it  was  evident  that 
they  took  no  pains  to  conceal  their  presence 
or  the  work  in  which  they  were  employed. 

There  were  quite  a  number  of  them,  too- 
throwing  the  dried  branches  of  trees  and 
other  combustible  matter  into  the  cave. 

They    seemed    to   po    very    methodically 


meut  was  an 

We  can  all  undcistaud  how  a  man  will 
feel  after  being  suddenly  disturbed  out  of  a 
sound  sleep ;  and  Fighting  Pat  was  no  ex- 
ception to  the  rule. 

He  was  puzzled  lieyond  expression. 

What  object  had  the  party  of  men  who 
were  employ  ingtliemselves  so  industriously? 

Who  were  they  V 

If  enemies,  and  knowing  of  their  presence, 
could  they  not  easily  have  rushed  into  the 
cave  and  captured  the  five  men  while  still 
wrapped  in  profound  slumber? 

Mooney  gradually  awoke  to  the  perils  of 
his  position. 

The  fact  gradually  dawned  upon  him  that 
the  dark  figures  plying  themselves  so  indus- 
triously were  the  very  men  from  whom  he 
had  the  most  to  fear— in  fact,  his  acquaint- 
ances of  the  preceding  evening- the  guer- 
rillas of  the  glade ! 

And  their  work  7 

Now  thoroughly  aroused,  the  truth  flashed 
across  his  mind— these  men  were  about  to 
doom  them  to  the  most  lingering  and  hor- 
rible of  deaths— that  of  burning  and  suffoca- 

The  manner  in  which  they  took  to  revenge 
themselves  was  brutal ;  nay,  fiendish ! 

"May  God  have  mercy  ou  usl"  groaned 
the  young  scout;  and  for  the  first  time  in 
perhaps  his  whole  life  his  firmness  seemed  to 
completely  desert  him. 

He  was  appalled— horrified ! 

There  are  circumstances  under  which  the 
strongest  and  bravest  of  the  whole  human 
species  give  way  to  feelings  of  terror. 

Fortunately  in  the  latter  class,  this  feeling 
is  only  of  momentary  duration.  Then  comes 
the  reaction— the  nerves  are  strung  to  the 
utmost  tension — the  blood  circulates  with 
more  than  its  wonted  rapidity,  and  once 
more  we  feel  ourselves  strong  to  battle  for 
that  which  is  dear  to  us  all— life  and  lib- 
erty! 

Thus  felt  Fighting  Pat,  when  he  had  fully 
realized  the  danger  which  threatened  him- 
self and  friends. 

The  four  men  still  slept  unconscious  of 
their  great  peril— slept  peacefully,  never 
dreaming  for  an  instant  of  the  horrible  death 
that  menaced  them. 

The  time  for  action  had  indeed  come,  and 
the  young  scout  crept  back  to  where  his 
comrades  lay  and  shook  the  slumbering 
forms  one  after  the  other. 

"Awake I  awake!"  he  said,  In  a,  hoarse 
whisper. 


What's  the  trouble?"  said  Morgan,  us  he 


"The  guerrillas!" 

"Thedevil!  '  and  the  old  man  was  on  his 
feet  m  an  instant. 

The  rest  followed  suit,  not  even  yet  realiz- 
ing the  full  extent  of  Fighting  Passwords. 

This  dreaminess  soon  passed  away,  as  they 
caught  the  voices  of  their  gray-coated  en- 
emies, and  beheld  dark  figures  moving  back 
and  forth  in  front  of  the  cavern's  entrance. 

"Ha!  and  so  they  have  discovered  your 
hidingplace,"  said  Morgan,  as  he  watched 
for  a  moment  or  two  the  work  that  was  pro- 
gressing at  the  entrance. 

The  calmness  of  the  old  man's  demeanor 
had  an  electric  effect  on  the  three  scouts. 

His  tones  were  so  reassuring  that  it  braced 
them  up  considerably. 

Perhaps  there  was  some  other  entrance  to 
those  wonderful  cavernous  apartments  by 
which  they  could  escape,  and  defy  those  sav- 
age and  bloodthirsty  guerrillas. 

"  I  perceive  they  mean  making  it  hot  for 
us!"  said  old  Morgan,  calmly,  "and  what  is 
more,  they  are  willing  that  we  should  know 
of  their  intentions." 

"  They  certainly  take  no  trouble  to  dis- 
guise the  fact,"  rejoined  O'Mahoney.  "  The 
devils  are  working  like  beavers." 

"  I  am  amazed  at  the  discovery,"  said  the 
old  man,  musingly. 

"The  discovery!" 

"I  mean  the  discovery  of  this  cavern. 
They  must  have  tracked  us  last  night." 

They  unanimously  agreed  that  this  was 
the  only  true  solution  of  the  matter. 

As  the  flie  in  the  cavernous  apartment  had 
long  since  died  out,  nothing  could  be  seen 
from  the  outside  of  what  was  transpiring  in 
the  interior. 

Perhaps  it  was  well  it  was  so,  and  no 
doubt  the  guenillas  labored  under  the  idea 
that  the  occupants  of  the  cave  still  slept. 

"This  will  be  a  hiding-place  no  more," 
said  old  Morgan,  regretfully. 

"And  who  the  devil  cares  about  that?" 
said  Denny  Byrne.  "  What  we  want  now  is 
to  get  out  of  it.  I,  for  one,  don't  want  to  be 
roasted  alive,  or  smothered  with  smoke.  So 
let  us  get  out  of  it  with  as  little  delay  as  pos- 
sible." 

"  But  the  difficulty  is  to  get  out,"  said 
Frank  O'Mahoney,  dubiously.  "  If  there  is 
no  other  way  but  that,"  pointing  to  the  en- 
trance, "  then  all  I  can  say  is  we  are  caught 
like  rats  in  a  trap." 

"Do  not  speak  so  loud,"  cautioned  Mor- 
gan. "  The  scoundrels  think  we  are  still 
asleep,  and  let  them  think  so.  This  wood 
has  been  my  home  for  nigh  onto  twenty 
years,"  continued  the  old  man,  sadly.  "  Here 
indeed  have  I  spent  many  a  pleasant,  peace- 
ful hour.  Well— well,  home  it  is  no 
longer " 

"To  the  divil  I  pitch  such  a  home," 
growled    Byrne,    inteiTupting  him.      "The 

?uestion  now  is,  how  are  we  to  get  out  of  it  ? 
don't  think  any  of  ye's  are  in  love  wid  the 
soort  o'  death  them  blaggard  guerrillas— bad 
luck  to  them !— have  in  store  for  us,  that 
ye's  should  remain  palaverin'  here,  when 
we  can  either  fight  or  find  our  way  into  the 
open  air.  Begob,  I'm  now  smotherin'  as  It 
is.  The  very  thought  of  settiu'  fire  to  the 
place  has  knocked  me  all  of  a  heap.  Be 
the  mortal  powers !  if  I  was  burned  up  here, 
I'd  never  forgive  meself  the  longest  day  I 
lived." 

"  Fear  not,"  said  the  elder  Mor  gan,  reas 
suringly.  .   .  „  ,  .   , 

"  Arrah,  what  gab  are  ye  givm'  us  ?'  inter- 
rupted Byrne,  with  a  gesture  of  impatience. 
"  Isn't  it  enough  to  make  a  man's  heart 
thremble  wid  a  Christian  sowl  in  his  body" 
We're  not  martyrs  yet,  thanks  be  to  Heaven 
an'  don't  mane  to  be  aither,  if  there's  the 
laste  chance  of  gettin'  out  o'  this." 


troubles  me,  is  the  fact,  that  I  will  be  com. 
pelled  to  leave  the  old  forest  forever,  and  it 
comes  very  hard  at  my  time  of  life  to  part 
with  scenes  so  fondly  familiar ;  butenough!  " 
said  the  old  man.  "The  dawn  has  come, 
and  we  must  make  our  way  into  the  oijen 
air." 

"Be  the  mortal  powers!  but  that's  the 
wisest  thing  I've  heard  ye  say  yet,"  rejoined 
Byrne. 

"Ha!"  cried  Fighting  Pat,  as  his  eyes 
wandered  to  the  entrance  of  the  cave. 
"  They  have  already  fired  the  brush— look!" 

Scarcely  had  he  uttered  the  words  when  a 
vast  sheet  of  flame  shot  up  from  the  cavern- 
ous entrance,  and  loud  yells  of  triumph 
from  the  guerrillas  without  came  echoine 
with  terrible  significance  Into  the  cave. 

Higher  and  higher  shot  the  flames,  and,  as 
they  mounted  to  the  cavern's  roof,  the'  yells 
of  the  men  outside  grew  perfectly  fiendish. 

They  still  continued  their  devilish  work. 

Pile  after  pile  of  brush  was  thrown  on  the 
seething,  roaring  mass,  and,  as  it  continued 
to  burn  fiercely,  clouds  of  suffocating,  black 
smoke  were  wafted  into  the  cavern. 

Suddenly  the  triumphant  shouts  of  the 
rebels  were  drowned  amid  a  rattling  dis- 
charge of  musketry. 

Then  came  a  second  and  a  third  volley. 

What  could  all  this  firing  mean  ? 

The  little  party,  headed  by  Morgan,  paused 
as  they  were  making  their  way  toward  the 
second  entrance;  they  paused  with  wildly- 
beating  hearts  and  listened. 

They  were  not  left  much  longer  in  doubt. 

The  fire  which  had  been  built  at  the  en- 
trance of  the  cave  was  suddenly  scattered 
right  and  left,  and  through  the  flames  and 
smoke  they  caught  sight  of  the  uniforms  of 
the  Irish  Legion ! 


"My  father  told  you  to  have  no  fear, 
said  the  younger  Morgan,  "and  you  need 
have  none." 

"Then  there  are  two  entrances  to  the 
cave  ?"  said  Fighting  Pat,  eagerly. 

"  But  likely  the  guerrillas  are  guarding  the 
other?" 

"They've  not  discovered  the  second  en- 
trance," replied  the  old  man,  confidently. 

"  How  do  you  know  that?" 

The  young  scout  had  no  desire  to  leave 
anything  to  chance. 

"Simply,"  replied  the  elder  Morgan,  "that 
if  they  had  found  entrance  number  two, 
they  would  immediately  see.  the  utter  futility 
of  the  work  upon  which  they  are  at  present 
engaged.      Bah!  the   only  thing  that  now 


The  guerrillas  had  received  a  crushing 
blow. 

Had  their  leader  anticipated  the  trouble 
that  was  in  store  for  his  command  he  would 
have  devised  other  means  of  ridding  himself 
of  the  obnoxious  scout,  but  as  it  was  he  had 
lost  valuable  time  in  giving  way  to  a  mean 
and  unmanly  spirit  of  revenge. 

The  result  was  that  he  and  his  whole  force 
were  cut  up  to  a  man. 

The  cruel,  not  to  say  barbarous  and  un- 
civilized, action  of  the  guerrillas  had  so  in- 
censed the  boys  of  the  Irish  Legion  that  they 
shot  these  brigands  down  right  and  left  with- 


the  former's  project  into  effect. 

Their  foes  were  vanquished,  the  roaring, 
seething  fire  at  the  entrance  of  the  cave  ex- 
tinguished, and  they  were  soon  folded  to  the 
breasts  of  the  victors,  and  hurried  out  into 
the  open,  where  they  once  more  breathed 
freely,  and  forgot  the  perils  to  which  they 
had  so  shortly  before  been  exposed. 

Their  danger  had  been  much  greater  than 
they  had  imagined. 

Bv  some  means  the  guerrillas  had  discov- 
ered the  second  entrance  to  the  cave,  so 
that  there  was  no  earthly  possibility  of  the 
escape  of  our  five  friends ;  and  should  they 
have  attempted  to  leave  in  that  direction, 
even,  they  would  have  found  the  exit  most 
effectually  blocked  up. 

Everything  considered,  they  were  ex- 
tremely fortunate. 

In  fact,  the  prompt  arrival  of  General 
Corcoran  and  his  men  had  saved  them  a 
horrible  and  lingering  death. 

Among  the  slain  guerrillas  there  was  one 
discovered  wearing  the  uniform;of  Meagher's 
brigade. 

It  was  Fighting  Pat's  old  enemy,  Jerry 
Hynes. 

The  traitor  had  met  the  fate  he  richly 
merited— a  minie-ball  had  passed  through 
his  heart. 

We  have  little  more  to  add. 

Having  rid  the  forest  of  the  guerrillas. 
General  Corcoran  and  his  men  marched 
back  to  their  old  camp. 

After  remaining  there  a  short  time,  during 
which  Fighting  Pat  and  his  two  comrades 
passed  through  many  hairbreadth  escapes, 
the  order  came  from  McClellan  to  storm  the 
heights  overlooking  the  Blackwater. 

These,  as  the  reader  is  already  aware,  were 
occupied  by  the  Confederate  chief,  General 
Pryor. 

This  proved  the  most  disastrous  effort  of 
poor  Corcoran's  life,  and  only  ended  in  de- 
feat and  death  to  many  a  gallant  Irishman. 

Three  times  they  scaled  the  heights,  and 
as  many  times  were  they  repulsed  with  ter- 
rible slaughter. 

Fighting  Pat  performed  prodigies  of  valor, 


16 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY 


and  was  finally  borne  off  the  field  sever-ily 
wounded  and  unconscious. 

For  weeks  and  weeks  he  hovered  between 
life  and  death,  but  his  robust  constitution 
stood  him  in  good  stead,  and  he  finally  re- 
covered. 

His  soldiering  days  were  over.  He  had 
lost  an  arm  in  the  defense  of  his  adopted 
country. 

His  false  love  on  the  other  side  of  the  At- 
lantic was  forgotten,  and  as  time  passed  ou, 
and  toward  the  close  of  the  war,  our  hero 
took  to  himself  a  wife,  and  is  now  occupying 
a  prominent  position  in  a  great  Western 
city,  where  he  lives  respected  and  happy. 
But  he  is  still  known  by  the  sobriquet  of 
Fighting  Pat! 


[THE   EXD.] 

THE  SCOUT  OF  NANSEMOND: 


The  Siege  of  Suffolk. 


BT  JOHN  W.   SOUTHARD. 


CHAPTER  I. 

BEFORE   SUFFOLK. 

Suffolk  is  a  town  of  considerable  import- 
ance, situated  in  Southeastern  Virginia, 
which,  at  the  commencement  of  the  late 
war,  boasted  a  population  of  about  one 
thousand  inhabitants. 

The  village  is  pleasantly  located  on  the 
south  side  of  the  Nansemond,river,  just  at  the 
head  of  navigation,  and  is  twenty  miles  di- 
rectly southwest  of  the  great  central  Atlan- 
tic seaport  city  of  Norfolk. 

Beside  having  navigable  communication 
with  Norfolk  and  the  coast,  it  is  also  an  im- 
portant railroad  junction,  as  it  is  here  that 
the  Norfolk  and  Petersburg,  and  the  Sea- 
board and  Roanoke  railroads  cross  each 
other. 

The  Great  Dismal  Swamp  of  Virginia,  a 
large  tract  of  marshy  land  some  fifty  miles 
1  long   by    fifteen    wide,    extends   from    the 
» Nansemoud   river   at    Suffolk,    south   into 
I  North  Carolina,  and  all  communication  be- 
tween that  section  of  Virginia  south  of  the 
James,  is  cutoff  from  the  coast,  except  by 
way    of  Suffolk.    Consequently,  all    travel 
between   the  interior  and  the   coast   must 
pass  through   the  latter  place,  which    also 
adds  til  its  importance. 

Will. II  t hi- F.'deral  army  came  into  posses- 
fT'oii  c.l  Niii  Inik  iu  '62,  it  was  thought  best 
t  1  i-xtfiHl  til,. ir  lines  out  as  far  as  Suffolk. 
(.oiiseiiueutly,  that  place  was  seized  and 
garrisoned  by  Union  troops,  who  held  un- 
d-sputed  control  of  the  town  for  nearly  a 
year. 

Shortly  after  the  evacuation  of  Norfolk 
by  the  Confederates,  the  leaders  of  that  gov- 
ernment discovered  that  a  great  blunder 
had  been  made,  in  thus  withdrawing  their 
forces  from  that  town,  by  means  of  which 
the  coast  bv  way  of  the  James  river,  which 
was  now  placed  completely  in  the  hands  of 
the  Union  Navy. 

Accordingly,  it  was  determined  to  make 
one  grand  effort  to  regain  Norfolk,  and  to 
this  end  General  Longstreet, with  an  army  of 
forty  thousand  men,  was  sent  against  that 
place. 

It  was  in  thelatterpart  of  March,  '63,  when 
Longstreet  reached  Suffolk,  and  here  he 
found  General  Peck  with  fifteen  thousand 
Union  troops,  backed  up  by  three  gunboats 
on  the  Nansemond  ready  to  dispute  his  fur- 
ther advance. 

Peck  held  possession  of  the  town,  and  was 
strongly  fortified  along  the  south  bank  of 
the  river,  and  in  every  way  was  prepared 
iiud  determined  to  make  a  desperate  re- 
sistance. 

Longstreet  quickly  realized  that  the  Union 
troops  held  a  position  of  very  great  advan- 
tage, and  that  nothing  short  o£  a  regular 
siege  would  reduce  the  place;  consequently, 
hebroughthisarmy  into  position  upon  the 
north  Ijank  of  the  river  and  directly  oppo- 
site the  town.  '  ^ 

Ouce  here,  he  commenced  throwing  up 
earthworks,  and  mounting  heavy  guns 
within  easy  range  of  till-  Union  lint-s  as  the 
river  is  very  narro^^- at  tins  iH,i,„,  und  per- 
fecting his  plans,  t'l,.  si,-,.  ,,1  suffiilk  was 
duly  carriedoninasiiiiitfil  laaiuii.rforsome 

One  day,  about  a  week  after,  Longstreet 
was  eonfenng  with  one  of  his  ofBeers  Col- 
onel Glaser,  when  he  stated  to  the  latter 
that  he  wished  he  could  find  some  one  who 
would  dare  go  across  the  river  and  learn  the 
strength  of  the  enemy. 


"  There  is  a  voun 
who  1  think  will 
colonel  replied. 

"What  is  his  name,  and  what  kind  of  a 
man  is  he?"  Longstreet  asked. 

"HisnameisCTharles  Radcllffe,"  the  col- 
onel answered;  "he  is  about  twenty-one  years 
of  age,  a  well  bred,  highly  educated  young 
man  and  a  good  soldier.  Bold  as  a  lion,  and 
ever  ready  to  do  his  duty;  he  is  also  a  man 
of  great  presence  of  mind,  and  I  think  iust 
the  one  you  want." 

"  Go  and  have  him  report  to  me  immedi- 
ately," said  the  general. 

An  hour  later  a  young  man  dressed  in 
Confederate  uniform  entered  Longstreet's 
quarters  and,  raising  his  cap,  saluted  the 
"•^•neral.    The  general  returned  the  salute. 


,  your  name,  if  you  please?" 


and  then  said 
"Young  ,,-_- 

"  Charles  Radcllffe. 
"Take  a  seat,"  said  the  general,  motion- 
ing him  to  a  chair  ;  and  continued :  "  Young 
man,  I  was  this  morning  telling  Colonel 
Glaser  that  I  greatly  needed  a  scout— some 
person  that  I  could  send  across  the  river  to 
learn  the  exact  position  and  strength  of  the 
enemy,  and  he  informed  me  of  you  as 
one  likely  to  answer  my  purpose.  Would 
you  be  willing  to  undert^ike  the  work  ?" 

•' Geueial,"  the  young  man  n-plieil,  "  I  did 
uotkuow  that  I  was  in  any  way  iiualificd 
for  a  scout ;  yet  I  am  always  ready  and  \yill- 
lug  to  undertake  any  worli  reiiui'red  of  me 
by  my  superiors.' 

"Then  report  immediately  to  Colonel 
Glaser,  and  from  him  you  will  receive  your 
orders,  and  to  him  make  your  reports  while 
you  act  as  scout.'" 

Radcllffe  retired  in  a  rather  strange  state 
of  mind. 

Very  unexpectedly  he  had  been  selected 
for  a  dangerous  as  well  as  very  important 
work.  -^         ^ 

As  he  walked  toward  his  own  camp,  he 
resolved  the  matter  over  in  his  mind,  and 
although  he  realized  that  the  position  was 
not  a  very  desirable  one,  yet  he  determined 
to  do  his  best,  and  if  by  any  chance  he 
should  succeed,  it  would  undoubtedly  be 
the  meams  of  helping  him  to  a  higher  posi- 
tien,  which  he  very  much  desired. 

He  proceeded  to  Glaser's  quarters  and  en- 
tering, said : 

"  Colonel  Glaser,  I  feel  very  much  flatter- 
ed by  the  good  opinion  you  have  given 
General  Longstreet  concerning  me." 

"  I  only  told  the  general  what  I  thought 
to  be  true,"  the  colonel  replied.  "  What  ar- 
rangement have  you  made  with  him  ?" 

"I  agreed  to  act  as  his  scout,"  Radcliffe 
answered;  "and  he  informed  me  that  I 
would  be  subject  to  your  orders." 

"  Well,  I  am  very  glad  to  learn  that  you 
have  consented  to  act  as  such,"  the  colonel 
replied:  "Now  what  I  want  of  you  is  this: 
This  night  will  be  dark  and  rainy,  and  I 
want  you  to  cross  the  river  and  enter  the 
town;  once  there,  inquire  for  a  person  by 
the  name  of  Samuel  Caton.  This  man  is  in 
sympathy  with  our  cause,  and  from  him 
you  will  learn  the  exact  strength  of  the 
enemy ;  also  the  number  of  regiments  they 
have,  how  many  pieces  of  artillery  and  how 
and  where  they  are  posted.  Here  is  a  note 
that  you  will  give  Caton  that  explains  who 
you  are  and  what  is  expected  of  him." 
Radcliffe  took  the  note,  and  asked : 
"  How  am  I  to  cross  the  river." 
"  You  will  find  a  boat  in  charge  of  the 
picket  up  here  by  the  creek  on  the  right," 
answered  the  colonel;  "and  here  is  a  pass 
that  will  allow  you  to  get  it  and  also  to  pass 
out  and  in  the  lines  any  time  of  day  or 
night.'' 

Radcliffe  took  the  pass,  and  parting  with 
the  colonel,  proceeded  down  to  the  river, 
where  he  spent  the  remainder  of  the  day  in 
looking  over  the  situation,  and  laying  plans 
for  his  night's  work.  ^^ 


but  through  the  gloom  and  rain  the  scout 
slowly  moved  on  and  in  a  short  time  reached 
the  river. 

Toward  the  village  he  could  plainly  see. 
the  lights  of  several  Federal  camp-fires,  imd 
bending  to  the  oars  again  he  pulled  off  down 
stream  some  distance,  and  then  turning  the 
skiff  toward  the  south  bank,  effected  a  land- 
ing near  a  clump  of  bushes,  pulled  the 
boat  on  shore  and  secreted  it  in  the  shrub- 
bery  as  best  he  could  in  the  dark. 
.  Taking  the  camp-fires  asagulde.and  mak- 
ing his  way  so  as  to  pass  between  them,  he 
started  for  the  village.  But  he  soon  found 
his  path  a  difficult  one,  bushes,  logs  and 
mire  holes  he  encountered  at  every  step, 
but  making  his  way  over  and  through  them 
as  best  he  could  he  proceeded  along  for  some 
distance,  when  suddenly  he  found  that  he 
was  approaching  a  picket  line. 

Working  his  way  up  as  near  as  he  dared, 
he  then  paused  and  listened. 

Plainly  he  could  hear  the  tramp  of  the 
pickets  as  they  paced  to  and  fro,  and  also 
heard  them  r •• 


^     ^  ^^         ,  ith  each  other  as  they 

met,  at  the  end  of  their  beats. 

Waiting  until  they  had  parted  and  again 
started  out  upon  their  monotonous  tramp, 
he  then  cautiously  approached  the  line  and 
passed  safely  across. 

Once  inside,  he  pushed  on;  and  in  about  an 
hour  reached  the  road  that  enters  the  town 
from  the  south,  and  a  few  moments  later 
was  in  the  village. 

It  was  now  about  eleven  o'clock,  but  yet 
a  goodly  number  of  persons,  mostly  negroes 
and  soldiers,  were  about  the  street. 

Proceeding  along  until  he  reached  the 
main  street,  he  then  stopped  the  first  negro 
he  met,  and  asked  if  he  could  tell  him  where 
Samuel  Caton  lived. 

The  negro  took  him  a  short  distance  down 
a  back  street,  and  pointed  out  a  small  dilap- 
idated frame  house  where 
resided. 


he   said   Caton 


Through  the  windows  a  dim  light  was  to 
.^e  seen,  and  approaching,  the  scout  rapped 
upon  the  door.  ^^ 

A  young  woman  answered  the  summons 
by  opening  the  same,  and  seeing  our  hero 
standing  in  the  rain,  asked  him  in. 

Entering  he  found  a  colored  boy  of  about 
fourteen  years  of  age,  reposing  half  asleep 
in  one  corner,  and  the  woman,  the  only  oc- 
cupants of  the  room. 

"Does  Samuel  Caton  live  here?"  inquired 
Radcllffe,  seating  himself. 

"  Yes,  sir,  my  father  lives  here,"  the  wom- 
an replied,  "but  he  went  to  Norfolk  to-day 
and  will  not  return  before  to-morrow." 

"I  am  very  sorry  he  is  away,"  said  Rad- 
clife,  "as  I  wished  to  see  him  on  some  very 
important  business." 

"  Did  you  come  from  over  the  river?"  the 
woman  asked. 

"I did,"  answered  Radcliffe,  after  a  mo- 
ment's thought. 

"Well,  father  has  been  expecting  some 
one  from  across  the  river  for  a  couple  of 
days,  and  he  told  me  if  any  one  came  during 
his  absence  to  have  them  remain  until  he  re- 
turned." 

"  Then,  I  suppose  I  may  as  well  stay  until 
to-morrow,"  Radcliffe  replied. 

For  an  hour  Charlie  and  the  woman  sat 
and  talked  in  a  low  tone  of  voice,  and  he 
found  that  she  knew  his  business,  and  from 
her  he  learned  considerable  that  was  of  great 
importance. 

About  midnight  he  expressed  a  wish  to  re- 
tire, and  calling  the  negro  boy  whose  name 
was  Jake,  the  woman  gave  him  a  light  and 
directed  him  to  show  the  gentleman  to  bed. 

Conducting  him  up  stairs  and  into  a  room 
that  contained  a  bed,  the  boy  then  left  him 
and  retiring,  Radcliffe  was  soon  fast  asleep. 

After  the  scout  had  retired  to  rest,  the 
young  woman,  whose  name  was  Jane  Caton, 
sat  for  a  long  time  iu  deep  study. 

"  He  is  a  noble  looking  young  man,"  she 
thought  to  herself,  "and  I  wonder  if  he  is 
single.  It  he  is,  I  will  play  my  cards  upon 
him,  and  if  I  should  be  lucky  enough  to  suc- 
ceed, then  Corporal  Harper  cau  go  to  the 
four  winds.  But  I  must  be  very  careful,  lest 
he  finds  out  there  is  black  blood  in  my  veins. 
Once  married,  I  will  make  him  take  me  and 
leave  the  country,and  never  will  the  people  of 
Suffolk  see  me  again.  Curse  them,"  she  said, 
half  aloud,  "  they  know  my  mother  was  part 
negro,  and  they  despise  me  for  it,  but  I'll 
be  victor  over  them  yet  or  die  in  the  at- 
tempt." 

Thus  her  thoughts  ran  for  some  time,  but 
finally  she  retired,  leaving  Jake,  the  negro 
boy,  to  fix  himself   a   bed    upon    the   floor 

as  falling,  making  it  very   disagreeable,  |  ful  black  hair  and  eyes ;  her  compllxion  was 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  SCOUT  AT  WORK. 

It  was  about  nine  o'clock  at  night  ■n'hen 
Radcliffe,  dressed  in  a  suit  of  citizen's 
clothes,  presented  himself  at  the  picket 
post  on  the  right,  and  to  the  sergeant  in 
charge  showed  the  pass  that  was  to  procure 
for  him  the  boat  and  allow  him  to  pass  out- 
side the  lines. 

Examining  the  pass,  the  sergeant  pro- 
nounced it  all  right,  and  then  at  the  scout's 
request  aided  in  pushing  the  boat  into  the 
creek. 

Seating  himself  in  the  boat,  Radcliffe 
seized  the  oars,  and  bidding  the  pickets  good- 


THE  WA-R  LIBRARY. 


17 


the  goiaen  hue  which  is  the  pride  of  all  Cre- 
oles and  which  added  greatly  to  her  beauty. 
Yet  at  times  a  savage  8C0W1  was  to  be  seen 
upon  her  face,  which  always  detracted  from 
hei-  beauty  to  a  considerable  extent. 

Her  mother,  who  was  now  dead,  had  been 
a  mulatto,  and,  although  it  was  almost  an 
impossibility  for  any  one  to  discover  by  Jane 
C'atoii's  looks  that  black  blood  coursed 
tliiiuigli  her  veins,  yet  it  was  known  to  every 
on.' in  Suffolk  that  such  was  the  case,  and 
for  it  she  despised  and  hated  them;  and 
made  herself  very  disagreeable  to  all  with 
whom  she  came  in  contact;  and  many  were 
actuallv  afraid  of  her  on  account  of  her  vio- 
lent bad  temper. 

For  years  Jane  Catou  had  tried  to  mveigle 
and  marry  almost  every  young  man  with 
whom  she  had  formed  an  acquaintance;  but 
with  poor  success.  „    , 

When  the  Union  forces  first  occupied  Suf- 
folk she  formed  the  acquaintance  of  a  young 
corporal  by  the  name  of  Robert  Hariier. 

This  young  man  was  somewliat  smitten 
with  her  and  paid  licr  considerable  atten- 
tion ;  she  also  seemed  to  love  him  ;  but  now, 
having  met  our  hern,  and  taking  a  fancy  to 
him  slie  -was  Muite  r.aiiv  to  "off  with  the  old 
love  and  on  ^^-^th  tin-  new,"  providing  there 

The  liext  morning,  wlien  Radcliffe  awoke, 
he  found  it  was  broad  daylight,  and,  going 
down  stairs,  was  pleased  to  find  that  break- 
fast was  ready. 

While  eating,  Jane  Caton  did  her  best  to 
entertain  him,  and  also  impress  him  favora- 
bly in    her  behsjt.    She   furthermore   took 


the  opportunitj|To  a 
of  family,  to  ifnich 


he  answered  in  the  neg- 

After  breakfast,  Radcliffe  strolled  out  and 
about  the  town,  and,  falling  in  with  several 
soldiers  in  a  saloon,  asked  them  to  drink  with 
him.  ,        „    ,. 

By  treating  them  a  couple  of  times 
soon  had  them  on  good  terms,  and  from 
them  learned  considerable  that  he  wished  to 
know. 

Toward  night,  Radcliffe  returned  to  Caton's 
bouse,  and  was  pleased  to  find  that  Mr.  Catou 
had  just  returned  from  Norfolk. 

He  found  the  latter  to  be  a  man  of  about 
fifty  years  of  age,  who  was  apparently  a 
rough,  desperate  fnllnw,  and  a  tev--  mmutes 
conversation  with  liim  (('iivin.M'd  tlif  ^cout 
that  he  was  a  mail  wh..  wnnhl  >,-\\  Ins  soul 
forgold,  and  waMMit  m  li.'   trust,  .1  m  ly  far. 

From  him  RadcliltV  IranieU  all  lie  wished, 
and,  about  ten  o'clock  that  night,  he  started 
for  Longstreet's  camp,  which  he  reached  m 
safety  about  midnight. 

Proceeding  to  Glaser's  quarters,  he  caused 
that  ofBcer  to  be  aroused,  and  to  him  made 
his  report.  ,         ,        ,  , 

Colonel  (ilaser  was  well  pleased,  and,  hav- 
ing reduced  it  to  writing,  dismissed  the  scout 
for  the  present. 


CH.^PTER  III. 

DOWN  IX  NORFOLK. 

The  scout  was  idle  but  a  couple  of  days, 
when  he  was  again  summoned  to  appear  be- 
fore Colonel  Glaser. 

Hastening  to  the  colonel's  quarters,  he  was 
informed  that  the  array  was  greatly  in  need 
of  ammunition  of  all  kinds,  and  that  he 
wished  him  to  so  down  to  Norfolk,  and  have 
agang  of  Confederate  smugglers,  who  had 
secretly  accumulated  a  large  quantity  of  the 
needed" goods  at  tliat  place,  run  a  load  of  the 
same  to  Suffolk  uumediately. 

'•Here  is  a  letter  I  have  written  to  Captain 
Chadwick,  the  head  smuggler,  telling  him 
who  you  are,  and  what  I  want.  When  you 
reach  Norfolk,  go  up  Church  street  to  >,o. 
— ,  enter  this  door,  and  pass  up  stairs  to 
room  13,  there  you  will  find  Captain  Chad- 
wick, or  some  one  who  will  tell  you  where 
he  is  to  be  found,  and  to  him  you  are  to  give 
this  letter  which  is  not  addressed.  By  the 
way,"  he  continued,  "here  is  another  letter 
which  you  will  also  deliver  in  person,  to  the 
one  to  whom  it  is  directed." 

Radcliffe  took  the  two  letters,  and  promis- 
ing the  colonel  to  do  his  best  in  the  matter, 
he  bade  him  good-afternoon  and  started 
forth  to  prospect.  . 

Proceeding  down  the  river  some  distance, 
he  came  to  a  farm-house,  and  looking  around 
he  found  a  large  boat  which  was  drawn  up 
out  of  the  water  upon  the  beach.  Then 
returning  to  camp,  he,  as  soon  as  it  was 
dark,  accompanied  by  two  soldiers,  started 
forth  upon  his  mission.  ^^     v,     . 

Arriving  near  the  place  where  the  boat 
was,  they  soon  found  it,  and  together  pushed 
itinto  the  river.  Then  embarking,  the  sol- 
diers seated  themselves  at  the  oars,  while  the 
scout  occupied  the  st«rn,  and  with  the  tiller 


in  hand  guided  the  boat  directly  out  into 
the  stream. 

Some  distance  above  them,  and  near  the 
village,  were  plainly  to  he  seen  the  lights 
upon  the  gunboat  that  lay  at  anchor  m  the 
river,  while  three-quarters  of  a  mile  below 
them  another  one  was  also  visible. 

Cautiously  til.- naisnien  dipped  their  blades 
in  the  water,  antl  on  ,iv.-r  the  al ream  the 
boat  moved  as  i|uieily  ;is  i",ssihli-,  Imt  alter 
a  time  the  Inn\-  tir;ilr(l  upon  tlio  pebbly 
shore,  announcing  that  the  liver  was 
crossed.  Stepping  on  shore,  HadcUffe  oi-- 
dered  his  companions  to  returu,  and  then  off 
across  the  fields  he  started  in  the  direction 
of  the  road  that  leads  to  Portsmouth. 

In  due  course  of  time,  and  after  encoun- 
tering many  difficulties,  he  reached  the 
road ;  then  at  a  brisk  pace  he  set  out  for  the 
city,  which  by  this  route,  running  around 
Dismal  Swamp,  was  distant  some  twenty- 
three  miles.  ^     ■  ^^ 

It  was  about  eleven  o'clock  at  night,  and 
although  it  had  been  somewhat  dark  in  the 
fore  part  of  the  evening,  the  clouds  now 
broke  away,  and  the  stars  coming  out  af- 
forded plenty  of  hght  by  which  to  travel. 

It  was  near  daylight  when  he  reached 
Bower's  Hill,  having  traveled  some  fifteen 
miles  since  entering  the  road.  At  this  place 
he  found  a  regiment  of  Union  soldiers  sta- 
tioned, and  from  a  citizen  learned  that  it 
would  be  impossible  to  get  through  the  lines 
without  a  pass. 

By  inquiring,  he  learned  that  the  western 
branch  of  the  Elizabeth  river  had  its  head  at 
this  place,  and  also  that  at  the  landing  near 
by,  were  several  flat-boats  loading  with 
wood  in  order  to  start  for  Norfolk  at  high 

Proceeding  down  to  the  landing,  the  scout 
offered  to  hire  passage  upon  one  of  these 
boats  to  the  city,  but  was  informed  that  it 
required  two  men  to  manage  each  boat,  and 
that  each  man  had  to  have  a  pass,  in  order 
to  go  by  the  pickets  posted  further  down 
the  river.  '  .„    ,  .      , 

After  some  bantering,  Radcliffe  hired  one 
of  the  boatmen  to  remain,  thus  allowing 
him  to  go  in  his  place  and  on  his  pass,  he 
agreeing  to  help  manage  the  boat. 

At  high  tide  the  boats  swung  out  from  the 
landing   and   slowly  proceeded    down   the 

Uur  hero  found  it  no  easy  matter  to  per- 
form the  work  required  of  him,  and  very 
glad  he  was  when  they  reached  Norfolk  that 
afternoon. 

Hastening  to  a  hotel,  the  scout  procured 
supper,  and  then  he  started  for  Church 
street.  ^  ,,  . 

A  short  distance  above  the  corner  of  Main 
he  came  to  the  number  where  Colonel 
Glaser  had  informed  him  he  would  find  the 

Proceeding  up  the  stairway,  he  readily 
found  room  number  13,  and,  opening  the 
door,  entered.  .      ,    ,^      ., 

Half  a  dozen  men  dressed  in  half  sailor 
garb,  were  seated  around  the  room  mostly 
eusaged  in  smoking,  and,  at  a  table  in  one 
corner,  a  well  dressed  man  sat  writing. 

As  Radcliffe  entered,  they  all  looked  up 
with  some  curiosity,  and,  approaching  the 
man  at  the  table,  he  asked  : 

"  Is  this  Captain  Chadwick  ?" 

"That  is  my  name,  sir,"  the  man  re- 
plied. 

Taking  from  his  pocket  the  unaddressed 
letter,  Radcliffe  handed  it  to  him,  and  then 
bv  invitation,  seated  himself  in  a  chair  near 
tlie  table.  Captain  Chadwick  broke  the  letr 
tei-  open  and  i  cad  itscontents,  then,  address- 

"  ^  ou  arc  from  .^utt'olk,  it  seems  ?" 
"Vcs,   sij  ;    1  came  from  there  since  last 
uiglit,  '  replied  lUc  scout. 

Well,  lioys,"  .said  Captain  Chadwick,  ad- 


dressing'his  companions,  "  we  have   at  last 
got  work  to  do." 

"  What  is  it?"  asked  one  of  the  men. 

"We  have  got  to  run  a  load  of  ammuni- 
tion to  Suffolk  as 
permit 


1  as  circumstances  will 


When  do  you  think  we  will  go?"  the  man 
asked.  .„       j. 

"  If  it  is  anyways  dark,  we  will  go  to-mor- 
row night,"  answered  the  captain.  Then, 
turning  to  Radcliffe,  he  said  :  "  Well,  my 
friend,  when  do  you  propose  to  return  to 
Suffolk?"  ^^ 

"Just  as  soon  as  I  possibly  can,"  the  scout, 
replied. 

"  If  you  wish,  you  can  go  up  with  us  on 
the  boat,"  the  captain  answered. 

"  I  would  be  very  happy  to  go  if  you  have 
no  objection,"  replied  Radcliffe. 

"  None  in  the  least,"  replied  the  captain  ; 
"  the  fact  is  you   can  go  just  as   well   as 


"  Then  I  shall  be  on  hand,"  said  Radcliffe, 
and,  bidding  the  smugglers  good-night,  he 
left  them  and  proceeded  to  his  hotel. 

The  uex.t  day  about  ten  o'clock,  Radcliffe 
thought  he  would  go  and  deliver  the  other 
letter  that  had  been  intrusted  to  his  care. 
Taking  it  from  his  pocket,  he  found  it  was 
addressed  to  Miss  Julia  Gardner,  No.—, 
Cumberland  street,  Norfolk.  . 

Inquiring  of  a  person  who  was  passing,  he 
learned  that  Cumberland  street  was  but  a 
short  distance  away,  and  thither  he  bent  his 

A  walk  of  five  minutes  brought  him  to  the 
street,  and  passing  along  up  he  soon  reached 
the  number  designated. 

The  house  was  a  neat  brick  structure, 
with  a  small  yard  in  front,  in  which  stood 
several  beautiful  shade  trees,  and  all  the 
surroundings   bespoke   wealth   and  reflne- 

Entering  the  gate,  he  ascended  the  steps 
and  rang  the  bell. 

The  door  was  opened  by  a  colored  woman, 
who  asked  what  he  wanted. 

"  I  wish  to  see  Miss  Gardner,"  the  scout 
answered.  ,    ,  ^, 

Through  the  hall  the  woman  led  the  way 
to  the  sitting-room,  and  ushered  him  in. 

Upon  a  sofa  sat  a  beautiful  young  woman 
of  about  eighteen  years  of  age,  who,  as  he 
entered,  looked  at  him  sharply  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  then,  in  an  excited  manner,  arose 
from  her  seat,  but  composing  herself,  she 
said: 

"  Good-morning,  sir." 

"Good-morning,"  answered  the  scout. 
"  Is  this  Miss  Julia  Gardner?" 

"That  is  my  name,"  she  replied. 

"  Then  I  have  a  letter  for  you,"  he  said, 
procuring  it  and  handing  it  to  her. 

She  took  the  letter,  and  requested  her 
guest  to  have  a  chair.  Then,  seating  herself, 
broke  the  seal  of  the  letter  and  perused  its 
contents;  after  which  she  turned  to  the 
scout,  and  said :  .       ^       ^         j. 

"This  is  from  my  cousin.  Lieutenant 
James  Gardner,  telling  me  that  my  uncle. 
Major  Samuel  Gardner,  lies  badly  wounded 
at  Suffolk.  Are  you  acquainted  with  either 
of  them  ?"  she  asked  in  an  excited  manuer. 

"I  am  not,"  he  replied.  "  I  do  not  recol- 
lect of  ever  having  seen,  or  even  heard,  of 
any  lieutenant  by  that  name,  but  I  knew 
that  a  major  by  the  name  of  Gardner  was 
wounded  a  few  days  ago  in  a  fight  between 
thepickets." 

"My  cousin  informs  me  that  through  the 
kindness  of  Colonel  Glaser,  this  letter  will  be 
forwarded  by  a  scout;  I  presume  you  are 
the  person  referred  to?" 

"  I  am,"  replied  Radcliffe. 

"When,  aud  how  do  you  return  to  Suf- 
folk?" she  asked. 

"Before  answering  your  question.  Miss 
Garner,  I  must  know  what  your  sentiments 
are,"  answered  the  scout.  ,_.  ^,.    , 

"I  love  the  sunny  South— my  birthplace 
and  home,"  she  replied,  "but  I  am  in  full 
sympathy  with  the  North,  because  I  believe 
secession  to  be  wrong,  and  that  the  Union 
aud  the  old  flag  should  be  preserved.  But, 
she  continued,  "  if  there  is  any  secret  con- 
nected with  your  answer  to  my  question, 
you  may  rest  assured  that  it  is  safe  with  me, 
for  it  is  not  my  purpose  to  betray  those  who 
confide  in  me."  ,.   ^     ,. 

"lam  fully  satisfied,"  replied  the  scout, 
"  and  am  willing  to  trust  you.  Now,  with 
regard  to  your  question.  In  company  with 
a  gang  of  smugglers,  I  expect  to  return  to 
Suffolk  to-night  by  boat." 

"If  it  is  no  secret,  I  would  like  to  know 
your  name,"  she  asked. 

"My  name  is  Charle 
swered. 

At  mention  of  this  name,  she  appeared 
somewhat  agitated,  but  composing  herself, 

"  Mr,  Radcliffe,  I  wish  very  much  to  go  to 
in  order  that  I  can  nurse  and  take 
of   my    uncle.    Can    I  not  accompany 
you?" 
"Miss  Gardner,  in  regard 
kno\ 


Charles  Radcliffe,"   he  an- 


E,^ ,  __  _  ,^  your  aceom- 

anying  us,  you  must  know  that  we  will 
ave  to  run  the  blockade,  and  that  the  trip 
will  be  one  of  danger." 

"  I  care  not  for  that,"  she  replied  with 
spirit.  "Please  promise  me  that  I  can  go, 
and  I  shall  ever  feel  greatly  indebted." 

"  Well,  it  will  be  just  as  the  captain  of  the 
boat  says,"  replied  the  scout.  I  will  go  and 
see  what  arrangements  I  can  make  with  him 
in  regard  to  the  matter." 

"  Please  go,"  she  said,  "  and  if  nothing 
else  will  answer,  offer  him  any  amount  of 
money  you  choose,  and  I  will  furnish  the 
same."  ,   , 

Accordingly,  the  scout  bade  her  good-day, 
and  started  forth  upon  his  errand. 


18 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


As  soon  as  he  had  departed,  the  young 
lady  commenced  pacing  back  and  forth 
through  the  room. 

As  before  stated,  she  was  about  eighteen 
years  of  age,  of  medium  size,  and  well  built, 
having  a  round,  plump  figure,  also  blonde 
hair,  sparkling  blue  eyes,  and  was  in  every 
respect  a  handsome  and  attractive  woman. 
But,  in  spite  of  her  great  beauty,  there  was  a 
sad  and  careworn  look  upon  her  face,  tell- 
ing very  plainly  of  some  secret  grief  and 


After  pacing  to  and  fro  for  some  time  in 
appareutlv  di'i-p  thought,  she  said,  half 
aloud,  auil  to  herself: 

"Howl  hate  that  man;  he  is  the  author 
of  all  my  sorrow  aud  trouble.  But,"  she 
continued,  lier  eyes  flashing  fire,  aud  her 
countenance  putting  on  a  determined  look, 
I  will  yet  have  my  revenge  on  him.  I  am 
called  beautiful  by  all  who  know  me,  and  if 
I  can  but  get  him  to  love  me,  then  after 
leading  him  on  sufficiently  I  will  cast  him 
off,  and  thus  mete  out  to  him  what  he  does 
to  others." 

After  a  time  the  bell  rang,  and  Miss  Gard- 
ner hastened  in  person  to  answer  the  sum- 
mons. 

A  boy  stood  upon  the  steps,  and  as  she 
opened  the  door  he  handed  her  a  letter  and 
then  departed. 

ituruing  to  _ 

its  contents,  which  ran  th 

■■  Miss  Gardner  :  After  considerable  coaxing,  I  have 
lanaged  to  procure  passag&fpr  you  to  S — -.^  Westart 


irieht  hand  side  of  1 


!  ferry. 
"C.  R.' 


"  So  far  everything  appears  to  be  working 
well,"  she  said,  as  she  finished  reading  the 
note.  Then  calling  her  servant,  she  ordered 
her  to  pack  her  traveling  valise,  as  she  was 
to  be  gone  for  a  few  days. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

BtTKNIXG  THE  BLOCKADE. 


It  was  half-past  eight  o'clock   at  night 

•d  the  boat  t 
Suffolk 


on  board  the  boat  that  was  to  take  him  to 


He  found  Captain  Chadwick  and  four  sea- 
men already  on  Ijoard,  and  from  them 
learned  that  the  cargo  was  safely  in  the 
hold,  and  that  as  soon  as  Miss  Gardner  came 
on  board,  they  should  beat  out  for  Suffolk. 

The  boat  was  a  small,  trim-l^uilt,  two- 
masted  schooner,  with  a  cabin  above  deck. 


up  the  wharf  where  the  smuggler  lay,  and 
a  lady  closely  veiled  and  enveloped  in  a 
heavy  water-proof  cloak,  was  assisted  out 
by  the  driver. 

Radcliffe  was  at  her  side  by  this  time,  and 
taking  her  valise,  conducted  her  on  board 
the  schooner  and  into  the  cabin. 

By  the  captain's  orders  the  sailors  now 
quietly  cast  off  the  line  that  held  the  boat 
to  the  wharf,  aud  loosiug  a  few  sails,  they 
commenced  working  their  way  out  of  the 
harbor. 

The  night  was  not  only  dark,  but  the  rain 
came  gently  down,  and  a  better  night  for 
their  work  the  smugglers  could  not  have 
had. 

Cautiously  they  worked  the  little  schooner 
out  of  the  harbor  and  down  the  river  until 
Fort  Norfolk  was  passed,  then  crowding  on 
all  the  sail  she  would  bear,  they  sped  along 
like  the  wind. 

In  about  an  hour  and  a  half  they  found 
g  the  mouth  of 
-  lights  on  a  Fed- 
eral gun-boat,  which  lay  at  anchor  in  and 
was  blockading  the  mouth  of  the  river,  was 
plainly  to  be  seen. 

Captain  Chadwick  now  informed  the 
scout  who  had  remained  in  the  cabin  with 
Miss  Gardner,  that  they  were  about  to  try 
and  run  by  the  Ijlookader,  and  when  Rad- 
cliffe stated  that  he  would  go  out  on  deck 
rhat  assistance  he  could,  his  fair 
!ompanying  him, 
1  prevail  upon  her 
to  remain.  Taking  their  station  near  the 
bowsprit,  the  scout  and  his  companion 
watched  the  scene  around  them  as  best  they 
could  in  the  gloom. 

The  sailors  were  to  be  seen  busily  taking 
in  some  of  the  sails,  in  order  t«  have  the  ves- 
sel more  completely  under  their  control, 
while,  well  off  to  the  right,  the  gunboat 
loomed  up  m  the  darkness  as  she  lay  quietly 
at  anchor.  ■' 

Keeping  the  little  schooner  in  as  near  Pin- 
point as  they  could  with  safetv,  they  quietly 
bowled  along,  and  just  as  they  were  begin- 
ning to  think  that  the  danger  was  nearlv 


danger  was  nearly 


passed,  they  were  suddenlv  startled  by  the 
sharp  cry  directly  ahead  of  them  of  "Ship 
ahoy." 
Rushing  to  the  rail,  the  smugglers  saw 


A  picket  boat,"  cried  one  of  the  smug- 
glers, as  soon  as  he  got  his  eye  upon  her. 

"  Prepare  to  repel  boarders,"  said  Captain 
Chadwick,  in  a  low  tone  of  voice.  At  this 
command,  his  men  gathered  around  him, 
and  drawing  their  revolvers,  the  sharp  click 


hasten  to  the  cabin,  the  scout  drew  a  revol- 
ver, and  joined  his  companions  at  the  rail. 
Le^■eling  their  pistols  as  best  they  could  in 
the  darkness,  the  smugglers  fired  upon  the 


upon  the  still  night  air,  telling  that  their 
shots  had  taken  effect,  and  the  next  moment 
a  volley  was  poured  into  the  smugglers. 

Captain  Chadwick  saw  one  of  his  men  fall 
wounded,  and  realizing  that  lie  must  manage 


in  charge  to  swing  the  vessel  around  to  the 
right  as  if  to  run  out  of  the  river. 

The  helmsman  complied  with  the  order, 
and  as  the  little  schooner  came  around,  her 
course  brought  her  nearer  the  blockader, 
and  the  smugglers  realized  from  the  loud 
commands  that  were  to  be  heard  given  on 
board  of  her,  and  from  the  beat  of  a  drum, 
that  the  boat  was  being  cleared  for  action. 

Captain  Chadwick  having  watched  the 
picket-l)oat  as  long  as  it  remained  iu  sight, 
and  seeing  it  make  off  toward  the  gunboat, 
determined  to  make  one  more  attempt  to 
enter  the  river. 

"Run  her  out  a  little  further,"  he  said  to 
the  helmsman,  "  then  fetch  her  on  around 
to  the  right ;  hug  Pig  Point  as  close  as  you 
can,  and  we  will  yet  run  in,  in  spite  of 
them,"  .Tust  as  the  captain  finished  speak- 
ing, two  guns  were  discharged  simultane- 
ously on  board  the  blockader,  and  a  couple 
of  balls  came  screaming  along  just  in  the 
rear  of  the  smuggler. 

"Those  are  pretty  close  shots,  but  we 
won't  pay  any  attention  to  them  as  long  as 
they  don't  hit  us,"  said  Captain  Chadwick  to 
the  scout. 


It's  so  dark  they  can't  just  tell  where  we 
are."  Charlie  replied. 

Two  more  shots  were  now  fired  from  on 
board  the  gunboat ;  but  they  flew  wide  of 
the  mark,  as  the  schooner  was,  by  this  time, 
well  out  of  the  river. 

Ordering  one  of  the  sailors  to  carry  his 
wounded  comrade  into  the  cabin,  the  cap- 
tain then  took  the  helm  iu  his  own  hands, 
and  commanded  the  others  to  immediately 
hoist  eveiy  sail. 

Swinging  the  schooner  around  to  the  right, 
he  brought  her  down  as  close  to  the  Point  as 
he  dared,  and  she  glided  along  into  the  river 
at  a  rapid  rate. 

In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  they  were  safely  in 
the  river,  and,  for  the  present,  out  of  danger, 
while  the  blockader  was  still  to  be  seen  lying 
quietly  at  her  anchorage. 

"They  think  we  are  out  in  the  Roads  yet," 
said  the  captain,  "and  while  they  are  watch- 
ing to  keep  us  out,  we  will  make  good  time 
toward  Suffolk." 

That  was  a  very  good  trick,  and  well  ex- 


ward  the  cabin, 

Entering,  he  found  Miss  Gardner  and  one 
of  the  sailors  engaged  in  bandaging  the 
wouudeil  man's  arm,  through  which  a  bullet 
had  jjassed. 

Radcliffe  informed  the  sailor  that  he  might 
go  on  deck,  as  probably  he  was  needed  there, 
and  he  would  assist  Miss  Gardner  in  dressing 
the  wound. 

As  soon  as  they  were  done  with  the  wound- 
ed man.  Miss  Gardner  said,  addressing  the 
scout : 

"  We  had  a  very  narrow  escape,  did  we 
not?'' 

"Yes;  it  was  indeed  a  very  narrow  es- 
cape," he  answered;  "were  you  frightened 
much  ?" 

"  Not  so  much  by  their  shots  as  I  was  by 
the  thought  of  being  taken  prisoner  by 
them,  for  I  do  not  care  to  have  it  known 
what  kind  of  company  I  keep,"  she  replied, 
with  a  smile. 

"  Well,  we  are  now  safe  and  on  our  wav, 
while  the  Federals  appear  to  think  we  have 
beat  off ;  all  danger  is  passed,  unless  one  of 
the  enemy's  gunboats  now  up  the  river 
should  chance  to  be  coming  down  and  meet 

Miss  Garduer  and  the  scout  sat  and  talked 
for  about  an  hour,  when    they  were  inter- 


tain?"  asked  the  scout. 

"  If  we  can  get  up  to  the  mouth  of  the 
western  branch  without  encountering  any  of 
the  enemy's  boats,  I  intend  to  run  into  that 
stream,  and  up  a  mile  or  two,  where  we  can 
then  unload  our  cargo  within  about  five 
miles  of  the  Confederate  camp." 

"  A  very  good  idea,"  remarked  the  scout. 

"  To-morrow  night  we  will  have  the  fun— 
if  such  I  may  call  it— of  trying  to  get  out  of 
here,"  said  the  captain,  as  he  left  the  cabin. 

An  hour  later  he  returned  and  informed 
the  scout  that  they  were  entering  the  west- 
em  branch,  and  together  they  went  on 
deck. 

Sailing  along  this  stream  some  distance, 
the  schooner  was  at  last  brought  up  to  a 
little  rickety  landing  and  made  fast. 

It  was  now  after  four  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, and  while  the  smugglers  were  unload- 
ing the  cargo,  Radcliffe  went  to  a  farm- 
house situated  near  the  landing,  and  hired  a 
man  to  carry  Miss  Gai-dner  and  himself  to 
camp. 

About  seven  o'clock  they  reached  the  Con- 
federate camp,  and,  leaving  his  fair  charge 
at  the  farmhouse  where  her  uncle  lay 
wounded,  the  scout  hastened  to  Glaser's 
quarters  to  make  his  report. 

Immediately  the  colonel  dispatched  sever- 
al teams  to  bring  up  the  cargo. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE     GIBL     WIFE. 

Let  us  go  back  a  few  years  to  the  city  of 
Alexandria,  Virginia,  in  the  year  1S58. 

In  front  of  an  elegant  mansion,  one  pleas- 
ant afternoon  in  the  month  of  April,  was  to 
be  seen  a  noble  pair  of  well  matched  iron- 
gray  horses,  attached  to  a  carriage  upon 
the  seat  of  which  sat  a  liveried  black  driver. 

Suddenly  the  front  door  of  the  palatial 
residence  on  Main  street  was  thrown  open, 
and  a  group  of  persons  came  out  and  down 
the  graveled  walk  to  the  carriage. 

The  foremost  young  couple,  a  boy  and  a 
girl,  advanced,  hand  in  hand,  whose  looks 
denoted  that  they  were  nothing  more  than 
children. 

The  boy  was  an  intelligent  looking,  manly 
little  fellow  of  about  sixteen  years  of  age, 
whose  beauty,  however,  was  marred  by  an 
ugly  scar  upon  the  forehead  just  over  the 
right  eye,  which  he  had  received  some  years 
before  by  being  thrown  from  off  a  stage 
coach. 

The  girl  was  a  flaxen-haired,  blue  eyed  lit- 
tle beauty  of  thirteen,  upon  whose  sunny 
face  a  pleasant  smile  was  playing. 

Reaching  the  carriage,  they  halted ;  and 
then,  looking  his  companion  full  in  the  face, 
the  boy  said : 

"Darling  little  wife!  I  must  now  leave 
you,  and  although  it  will  be  a  long  time  be- 
fore we  meet  again,  yet  you  will  ever  be  in 
my  mind,  and  I  shaU  expect  that  you  will 
write  me  at  least  once  a  week  during  my 
absence." 

"Dear  Charles,"  the  girl  replied,  "you 
know  my  parents  are  dead,  and  I  have  only 
you  to  look  to,  and  you  will  think  no  more 
of  me  than  I  shall  of  you,  and  rest  assured 
that  you  will  hear  from  me  regularly,  and  I 
shall  expect  to  hear  from  you  quite  often  in 
return.  Maj-  you  reach  Boston  in  safety," 
she  continued,  "  and  bear  in  mind  to  be  a 
good  boy  while  you  are  absent." 

There  was  a  shaking  of  hands  all  around, 


handkerchiefs  was  driven  rajiidly  away. 

Twenty  years  before  the  opening  of  our 
story  two  young  men  who  had  been  attend, 
ing  school  at  the  college  of  William  and 
Mary,  and  who  were  warm  friends,  gradu» 
ated  from  that  institution  and  started  forth 
upon  the  duties  of  life. 

John  Monteith,  the  older  of  the  two,  em- 
barked in  the  mercantile  business  in  the  city 
of  Alexandria,  and  the  other,  Edward  Rad- 
cliffe, commenced  the  practice  of  law  in  the 
city  of  Lynchburg. 

Shortly  after  establishing  themselves  in 
business,  these  young  men  both  married, 
and,  in  due  course  of  time,  each  was  blessed 
with  a  child— Edward  Radcliffe  with  a  son, 
aud  John  Monteith  with  a  daughter. 

Both  Monteith  and  Radcliffe  prospered 
well  iu  their  respective  business,  and,  in  a 
few  years,  each  had  accumulated  an  im- 
mense property. 

Although  they  lived  many  miles  apart,  yet, 
with  their  families,  they  often  visited  each 
other,  and  renewed  those  bonds  of  friend- 
ship which  seemed  eternal,  and   which  had 


THE  WA.R  LIBRARY. 


gro'n'n  strouger  with  each  year  from  their 
boyhood  days. 

Once,  when  Radclifle  and  his  wife  were 
visiting  their  friends  in  Ale.xandria,  the  for- 
mer proposed  to  Monteith  that,  when  theii' 
children  should  become  of  suita)>le  aj;e,  thi-v 
should  be  united  in  maniau'i',  and,  by  tlifs 
means,  bind  the  two  families  more  i-ioselv 
together. 

To  this  proposition  Monteith  readily  as- 
sented, providing  that  the  parties  most  in- 
terested were  like-minded. 

The  two  children,  nameil  respectively 
Charles  and  Fanny,  niid  wh..  had  seen  each 
other  several  times.  A\.  re-  in  time  informed 
of  their  ]iarent's  ^^islit's,  uiiil  ImitIi  wei'e  well 
pleased,  as  they  li:nl  :i1\vm\s  nuuiitested  a 
warm  attachment  Id!- luih  idhei-  from  the 
first. 

Long  before  either  had  reached  their  ma- 
jority, or  the  plans  of  their  i)arentshad  been 
consummated,  both  families  were  stricken 
down  with  grief,  and  both  houses  were  made 
houses  of  mourning. 

When  Charles  Radcliffo  was  fourteen  years 
of  age  his  mother  died  of  yellow  fever,  and. 


mother,  while  returuinii  Imme  from  a  jour- 
ney North,  were  both  seriously  injured  in  a 
railroad  accident — hei'  motlierwas  bi'ought 
home  dead  and  her  father  dying. 

As  soon  as  .John  Monteith  realized  that  he 
could  not  live  he  made  a  will,  giving  all  his 
property  to  his  only  child. 

He  also  expressed  a  wish  that  he  might  see 
her  and  Charles  Radcliffeiniited  in  marriage 
before  he  should  pass  away. 

Accordiugly  Edward  R4id(lifre  was  inform- 
ed of  his  friend's  request,  and,  accompanied 
by  his  son,  whom  he  was  about  to  send  to  a 
Northern  school,  they  started  immediately 
for  Ale.xandria. 

Arriving  there,  the  young  couple  were 
married  by  the  bedside  of  dymg  John  Mon- 
teith, who,  with  his  last  bre.ath,  blessed  them 
both,  and  invoked  the  Great  KuU-r  to  w.atch 
over  and  protect  them  tlirouph  life. 

After  the  body  of  .lohn  .Monteith  had  been 
laid  to  rest  in  the  tomb,  it  was  arranged 
that  Charles  Radclifle  should  go  North,  and 
remain  until  he  had  completed  his  educa- 
while  his  wife  was  to  make  her  home  with 
her  uncle,  Thomas  Monteith,  who  resided 
at  Beaufort,  North  Carolina;  and  it  was 
thus  that  we  saw  Charles  Radcliffe  in  the 
commencement  of  this  chapter,  taking  leave 
of  his  young  wife,  father  and  friends,  as  he 
was  starting  for  the  North. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  CAPTnBE  AND   ESCAPE. 

"  Well,  Jake,  where  have  you  been  all  this 
time?"  asked  Jane  Caton,  of  the  negro  boy, 
who  lived  with  her  father,  as  he  reappeared 
after  being  absent  a  couple  of  days. 

"Ihab  just  been  ober  de  riber  to  Massa 
Longstreet's  camp,"  he  replied  with  a  grin, 
showing  his  ivories. 


tde  time,  you  understand?  Well,  when  once 
ober  de  riber,  I  proceeiled  down  to  Massa 
Longstreet's  without  delay." 

"  Now,  stop  your  joking,  and  tell  me  all 
you  learned  while  over  there,"  said  Jane  Ca- 
ton, "and  if  j-ou  sawanythingof  thatyoung 
man  that  was  here  a  few  days  ago  ?" 

"Saw  him!  I  s'peos  I  did  saw  him,  my 
honey ;  and  a  right  smart  gal  he  had  wid 
him,  too,  you  bet!"  the  darky  replied. 

"  Had  a  gal  with  him,  did  he  ?  Who  could 
it  be,  and  where  did  you  see  them?"  she 
asked. 

"  Now,  seeing  as  how  you  want  to  know, 
I'll  just  tole  you  all  'bout  it.  Dis  mornin' 
a  young  officer,  by  de  name  ob  Gardner,  gili 
a  dime  to  carry  a  bird  to  his  fader,  who  is 
wounded.  You  see,  I  went  down  to  de 
house  whar  de  old  gentleman  was,  wid  de 
bird,  and  while  dar,  up  drobe  a  wagon  con- 
taining two  fellers  and  a  gal.  One  ob  de  fel- 
lers was  de  same  one  who  was  ober  here,  and 
he  and  de  gal  got  out.  I  tell  you,  my  honey, 
he  was  mighty  sweet  on  her.  and  a  miL;hty 
sweet  kind  ob  a  gal  she  was— all  dressed  up 
kind  a  highflalutiu",  as  de  big  bugs  say." 

"That's  enough,"  said  Jane,  as  the  darky 
finished  his  story,  "  and  now,  Jake,  I  want 
you  to  go  and  And  Corporal  Harper,  and 
tell  him  that  I  desire  to  see  him  immedi- 
ately." 

The  boy  started  forth  in  search  of  the  cor- 
poral, and  Jane  Caton  threw  herself  into  a 
chair,  and  exclaimed,  in  a  bitter  tone  of 
voice : 


"  That  explains  why  he  has  not  been  over 
here  lately,  a  young  lady  is  to  be  cared  for, 
consequently  he  has  no  lime  for  anything 
else;  but,"  she  continued,  "when  he  does 
come.  1  don't  think   he  will   get   back   very 


he  shall  be  shot  as  a  spy  ;  but  it  I  can  tame 
him,  then,  through  Harper,  I'll  manage  to 
release  him,  or  make  sad  havoc  with  the 
Unionists  in  Suffolk  in  the  attempt." 

In  the  course  of  the  day.  Corporal  Harper 
called  n^tou  .Iniie  Caton,  who  received  him 
witli  siiuli  s  ;iii(l  ki~<os.  and  to  whom  she  dis- 


■los, 


jfed- 


erate  s|n  .  who  was  ill  Iho  liabit  of  visiting 
thetown  almost  ni.-hlly. 

Promising  to  aid  her  at  auy  time,  the  cor- 
poral took  an  iiffectionate  farewell  of  this 
scheming  woman,  who  held  him  completely 
in  her  power,  and  returned  to  camp. 

About  ten  o'clock  that  very  night.  Jane 
Caton  was  somewhat  surprised  by  the  scout's 
making  his  appearance  at  her  home.He  found 
that  her  father  was  absent,  and  was  not  ex- 
pected to  return  until  near  morning,  conse- 
quently he  was  obliged  to  remain  until  the 
next  night,  before  returning. 

Toward  morning,  Samuel  Caton,  who  had 
been  away  gathering  information  for  the 
Confederates,  returned. 

The  next  daj-,  the  scout,  in  company  with 
the  former,  visited  the  different  camps 
around  the  village,  and  having  learned  all 
they  possibly  could,  the  scout  concluded  to 
cross  the  river  at  an  early  hour. 

Accordiugly,  he  left  the  village  a  short 
time  befure  dark,  and   walked  leisurely  out 


When  aliout  a  mile  from  the  town,  he  was 
overtaken  by  a  couple  of  soldiers,  who  level- 
ed their  guns  at  him,  and  informed  him  that 
he  was  their  prisoner. 

Realizing  that  there  was  no  chance  to  es- 
cape, the  scout  complied  with  their  wishes, 
and  with  them  immediately  started  on  their 
return  to  the  village. 

One  of  the  soldiers  was  a  corporal,  and  as 
they  walked  along,  he  informed  Radcliffe 
that  it  was  known  that  he  was  a  scout,  and 
that  they  had  been  put  upon  his  tracll  in 
order  to  capture  him. 

This  information  somewhat  surprised  as 
well  as  alarmed  the  scout,  and  he  deter- 
mined to  make  one  liold  effort  to  escape  be- 
fore reaching  the  town. 

They  were  now  within  about  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  of  the  village,  and  by  this  time  it  was 
quite  dark. 

Watching  his  chance,  the  scout  pulled  a 
revolver  from  one  of  his  boots,  and  leveling 
it  at  the  soldier  nearest  him,  which  happen- 
ed to  be  the  private,  he  pulled  the  trigger, 
and  with  the  report  of  the  pistol,  sent  a 
bullet  crashing  through  his  brain. 

Then,  before  the  astonished  corijoral  could 
place  himself  on  the  defense,  the  scout  stuck 
the  muzzle  of  his  pistol  into  his  face,  and 
ordered  him  to  drop  his  gun  and  put  off' 
for  the  village,  or  he  would  shoot  him  on  the 
spot. 

The  corporal  readily  accepted  the  terms 
by  dropping  his  gun,  and  started  off  as  fast 
as  his  legs  could  cany  him. 

As  soon  as  the  corporal  was  well  out  of 
sight,  Radcliffe  set  out  again  at  a  rapid  pace 
for  the  river,  which  he  safely  crossed,  and  an 
hour  later  he  made  his  appearance  at  Glaser's 
quarters  in  the  Confederate  camp. 

"  Back  again  ?"  said  the  colonel,  as  he  en- 
tered , 

"Yes,"  replied  the  scout,  "but  I  came 
verv  mar  stoppini;  on  the  other  side  of  the 
river  for  a  s.asoii." 

After   srali 


two  Fedora 
"Wliatdi 

the  colonel, 
"It  ispla: 

me.  and  I  d 

is  Caton.    I 


I  1  :,        -    ■:     ■      -..■     !ias  ].eaolied  On 

111    -■  '■    i>  lie  .1  eaii    lie,  unless  it 
r-  In.  .1  leiiuiv  ;  dou  t  like,  at  best, 
)t  lie  very  safe  for  me  to  go  over 
there  again,  I  fear." 

"But,"  answered  the  colonel,  " it  is  very 
essential  that  you  should  go,  as  the  informa- 
tion vou  are  securing  tor  us  is  of  the  greatest 
iniporiaiiee.    By  the  way,  don't  you  think 


morrow  morning,  down  on  the  extreme 
Union  right.  Now,  the  pickets  have  their 
headquarters  in  an  old  house,  and  i  propose 


|ht,  the  scout 


to  go  down   to-morrow  night  with  a  few 
men,  and  capture  the  entire  outpost.    Once 
iu   my  power,  I   think  I  can  learn  from  the 
i'orporal  who  exposed  me." 
"  lint  liow  are  you  to  ;ret  over  with  a  body 

■■'I'lier,.  i,  a  tiat  Ileal  ii|i  above  here  in  the 
iieek,  and  it  tile  iii-lit  slioiild  be  somewhat 
dark  we  eau  go  down  on  that;  of  course," 
he  continued,  "we  will  have  to  run  by  the 
village  and  also  their  gunboats,  but  I  think 
it  can  be  done." 

"  It  is  a  good  idea,  but  quite  a  dangerous 
one,"  the  colonel  replied,  "  nevertheless,  if ' 
you  conclude  to  go,  you  can  have  all  the 
men  you  tliiiik  Miu  w 

Bidding  tin   ,el,,nel  eooii-nigh 
now  took  his  leaieand  proceeded  to  his  own 
quarters  in  order  to  get  a  little  sleep  before 
dawn. 

The  next  day  proved  to  be  quite  dark  and 
cloudy,  and  about  nine  o'clock  the  scout 
accompanied  tiy  four  trusty  and  daring  men 
embarked  on  board  the  flat-boat  and  started 
forth  upon  their  hazardous  undertaking. 

With  muffled  oars  they  paddled  along 
down  the  creek  and  out  into  the  river.  Then 
dowu  the  river  the  boat  slowly  crept  along, 
propelled  by  the  steady  strokes  of  the  long 
sweeping  oars,  which  inashort  time  brought 
them  directly  opposite  the  town. 

A  multitude  of  Ughts  were  to  be  seen  in  the 
village,  and  just  below  the  same  and  near 
the  southern  shore,  a  Federal  gunboat  was 
quietly  riding  at  anchor. 

Keeping  well  under  the  north  bank  of  the 
river,  so  as  to  make  land  and  escape  it  dis- 
covered, the  adventurers  quietly  worked 
their  way  along  and  after  a  time  safely 
passed  the  village  and  the  gun-boat ;  then 
the  oars  were  applied  more  vigorouslv  and 
the  boat  swept  along  at  a  fair  late  of  .speed. 

Just  above  the  lower  Federal  (lieket  jMist, 
Hie  boat  was  landed  on  the  sonth  s-  le  of  the 
river,  and  then  Radcliffe,  feilloHed  bv  his 
comrades,  proceeded  cautiously  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  pickets'  headquarters. 

Arriving  there,  they  found  the  doors  and 
windows  of  the  building,  in  which  the  re- 
serve had  their  quarters,  thrown  wide  open, 
and  looking  in  at  one  of  the  windows,  Rad-! 
cliffe  saw  the  corporal  who  had  captuied 
him  the  night  before,  and  five  comrades,  . 
seated  around  an  old  table  engaged  in  play- 
ing cards. 

Their  arms  were  stacked  in  one  corner  of 
the  room,  and  they  were  so  engaged  in  the 
game,  that  the  scout  saw  their  capture  was 
to  be  an  easy  matter. 

Returning  to  his  comrades,  Radchffe  or- 
dered them  to  advance  by  twos  to  the  open 
windows  while  he  alone  crept  up  to  the 
door. 

The  sharp  click  of  gun-locks  first  aroused 
the  Federals,  and  looking  up  they  saw  with 
some  surprise,  four  rifles  leveled  at  them 
through  the  windows,  while  in  the  door- 
way, with  an  aimed  revolver  in  his  hand, 
stood  Radcliffe,  the  scout. 

"  Don't  give  an  alarm  orattempt  to  move ; 
if  you  do  you  are  dead  men !"  the  scout  said, 
advancing  into  the  room. 

The  Federals,  although  somewhat  sur- 
prised and  discomfited,  wisely  accepted  the 
situation  and  remained  iu  their  seats,  while 
the  scout  passed  their  arms  out  through  a 
window.  After  which  a  stout  cord  was  pro- 
cured with  which  Radclifle  and  one  of  his 
men  proceeded  to  bind  the  si.v  prisoners 
together. 

"Well,  Mr.  Scout,  you  have  rather  eucher- 
ed  me  this  time,"'  said  the  corporal,  as  Rad- 
cliffe advanced  to  bind  him. 

"I  am  only  retaliating,"  answered  the 
scout. 

"  Well,  I'll  not  find  any  fault  if  I  can  man- 
age to  get  away  as  easily  as  you  did,"  the 
corporal  replied  with  a  smile. 

"Idou't  intend  you  shall  get  away  from 
me  if  I  know  myself,"  answered  the  scout. 

By  the  way,  corporal,  where  is  your  picket 


ited?"  he  asked. 


"You  just  find 

^ut  if  vou  can;  I  don't  in- 

tend  you  will  by  n 

e,  if  I  know  myself,"  re- 

plied  the  eeriieral 

indi-nantly. 

"It  make,   bui 

liliie  diflerence  whether 

we  capture  the  other  one  c.r  not,"  the  scout 
answered,  and  immediately  he  gave  the 
order,  "forward  I'  aud  away  they  marched 
toward  the  river  with  tlieir  prisoners.  Once 
there  they  immediately  1  loarded  the  fl.atboat, 
and  half  an  hour  later  they  were  safe  on  the 

Arri\  in-  with  lii>  inisoners  at  camp,  Rad- 
elille  eaused  them  to  be  confined  iu  an  old 
deserted  larmhouse,  around  which  he 
placed  a  heavy  guard. 

Early  the  next  morning  he  visited  the 
prisoners,  and  taking  the  corporal  into  an 
adjoining  room,  interviewed  him  as  follows : 


THE  WAB  LIBRARY. 


"  Corporal,  if  it  is  no  secret,  I  would  very 
much  like  to  know  who  it  was  that  inform- 
ed you  that  I  was  a  scout,  and  who  it  was 
tha't  sent  you  to  arrest  nie?" 

"To  be  frank  with  vou,"  replied  the  cor- 
poral, "I  will  tell  ynu  all.  Since  my  regi- 
ment has  been  at  Suffolk.  I  have  paid  con- 
siderable attention  to  a  vouiis  lady,  who 
lives  in  the  village ;  her  name  is  Jane  Caton. 
It  was  she  who  informed  lue  tliat  you  was  a 
scout,  and  it  was  by  her  special  request  that 
I  made  you  my  prisoner.  The  reason  I  tell 
you  this."  he  continued,  "  is  because  I  think 
Miss  Caton  is  making  a  fool  of  me,  and  only 
using  me  as  a  tool." 

"What  makes  you   think  so?"    inquired 


the* 


aiKi 


takt-ii  pUicv,  >lic  rav.'d  like  a  \vild  person.  1 
was  never  more  a>tunished  in  my  life.  She 
called  me  a  cursed  fool,  a  blockhead,  and  an 
idiot,  and  also  ordered  me  to  leave  the  house 
immediately,  which  order  I  complied  with 
as  soon  as  possible.  Early  (lie  next  morn- 
ing she  sent  for  me.  and   i.lii.ilaiitly  I  went 


toi 


lile, 
had  taken 
;  her  this, 
1  for  your 
she  is  de- 
some  way 


and  besought  me  t.i  Ioilii- 
place  the  day  befiiii\  r 
she  then  commenied  layii 
capture,  and  I  am  sati'sfi 
ceiving  me,  and  is  cnlv  ti 
to  promote  her  own  iiit.-i , 

"I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you,  cor- 
poral, for  the  information  you  have  given 
me,"  said  Radcliffe,  and  conducting  the 
prisoner  to  the  room  where  his  companions 
were  confined,  proceeded  toward  his  own 
quarters,  and  as  he  went  he  wondered  why 
Jane  Caton  was  so  anxious  for  his  capture. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

PROMOTED. 

On  the  afternoon  of  April  18,  the  scout 
of  the  Nansemond,  was  summoned  to  appear 
immediately  before  General  Longstreet. 
Arriving  at  thatworthy's  quarters,  he  found 
Colonel  Glaser,  who  was  the  general's  right- 
hand  man,  also  there. 

"Well,  Radcliffe,"  said  the  general,  as 
soon  a^  he  wa>;  seated,  "  T  h.Tvc  a  very  pleas- 
ant duty  t..  perform    this   day.    For  the  1 


the 


Con- 


fcdcfac  y  as  a  s.'out,  1  liav d.Ts  to  confer 

uiii'ii  yxti  the  rank  of  .sicnml  lieutenant, 
your  commission  to  date  from  this  day. 
Here  it  is,"  the  general  continued,  handing 
him  a  parchment  sheet,  "and  allow  me  to 
state  that  the  commander  of  the  army 
places  great  confidence  in  you,  and  this  pro- 
motion is  but  a  just  reward  for  the  noble 
services  you  have  rendered  our  cause  here 
before  Suffolk." 

"General  Longstreet,"  Radcliffe  replied, 
"  what  services  I  have  rendered  as  a  scout, 
were  performed  only  as  any  other  duty  re- 
quired of  me  would  have  been,  for  I  con- 
sider thatitis  asoldier's  duty  toaiwaysobey 
his  superiors,  even  though  it  may  cost  him 
his  lile.  I  feel  very  grateful,"  he  continued, 
"lor  the  honor  bestowed  upon  me  in  this 
commission,  by  those  in  authority  far  above 
me,  and  rest  assured  that  I  shall  ever  con- 
sider it  a  pleasure  to  carry  out  and  ex- 
ecute any  schemes  you  may  intrust  to 
me." 

Then  for  an  hour  the  three  sat  and  dis- 
cussed the  prospects  of  the  campaign,  as  only 
experienced  soldiers  could,  and  at  the  ex- 
piration ol  that  time,  the  scout  bade  his  fel- 
low officers  good-day  and  withdrew,  turn- 
ing his  steps  toward  the  house  where  Miss 
Gardner  was  staying. 

Leisurely  wending  his  way,  he  thought  ol 
how  well  he  had  liked  her  appearance  from 
the  first  time  he  saw  her,  and  that  he  was 
gradually  becoming  more  and  more  pleased 
with  her. 

The  fact  is,  he  thought  to  himself : 

"  I'm  dead  in  love  with  this  woman,  and 
why  should  I  not  be?  She  is  the  most  at- 
tractive person  I  ever  saw,  and  then  so 
brave  and  courageous. 

"  The  night  we  ran  the  blockade  she  ap- 
peared as  unconcerned  as  any  one  on 
board,  and  one  would  have  thought  she  was 
at  a  ball  instead  of  a  battle. 

"Now,  what  to  do,  I  do  not  know,  for  her 
ways  completely  puzzle  me.  There  is  some- 
thing very  mysterious  about  her,  she  al- 
ways welcomes  me  and  appears  to  be 
pleased  with  my  company,  yet  she  is  con- 
siderably concerned  lest  her  uncle  shall  see 
me ;  and  what  it  all  means  I  am  unable  to 
make  out. 

"  I  must  know  what  my  chances  are,  and 


"Then,  it  she  accepts  me, I'll  tell  to  her 
the  history  of  my  life,  and  she  shall  be  the 
judge  of  what  is  right.  But  it  I  am  reject- 
ed, then  it  shall  yet  remain  a  secret  within 
my  breast." 

Arriving  at  his  destination,  Radcliffe  asked 
for  Miss  Gardner,  and  by  oue  of  the  servants 
was  conducted  within. 

"Good-afternoon,  Miss  Gardner." 

"  Good-afternoon,  Mr.  RadcUffe,"  she  an- 
swered, handing  him  a  chair. 

"  Why  is  it  that  you  have  not  called  on  me 
for  so  long  a  time?"  she  continued. 

"  The  only  reason  I  can  give.  Miss  Gardner, 
is  that  my  business  has  kept  me  away.  I 
have  i-v.-r  foiiud  votir  >oii.-ty  very  agree- 
able; aiid.-li..uld  liav,',"iil,.loftener  than  I 


ited.' 


plied,  with  a  si 
duties,  do  you  not  expose  yourself  more 
than  you  should.  If  you  are  caught  you 
are  undoubtedly  aware  that  you  would  be 
shot  as  a  spy." 

"Miss  Gardner,  I  fully  realize  that  I  am 
engaged  in  a  very  dangerous  work,  but  it  is 
a  duty  I  owe  my  country,  aud  as  long  as  I 
am  a  soldier,  so  long  I  shall  consider  that  my 
lile  is  at  the  service  of  the  Cnnfedei-acy." 

"  From  the  way  j;oii  vi.'w  ilj.-  matteV,  .you 
must  beagood  soldier,''  >li.'  aii-WHi  ,d  ;  "  but 
do  you  receive  a  just  ci mi |"n. nation  fnr  your 
services,  and  for  the  imuiineut  dansrer  of 
your  parti. ailariolc?" 

"Sn  (ar,  I  havf  .iidy  liad  the  pay  of  a  com- 
mon .vuldii-r."  h..-  iiplied,  "but  to-day  I  have 
received,  tliiuugh  General  Lougstreet,  a 
heutenant's  commission  as  a  reward  for  my 
faithfulness  to  the  Confederacy." 

"  I  am  very  happy  to  learn  that  your  serv- 
ices are  duly  recognized  by  those  in  author- 
ity, but  I  would  advise  you  to  be  very  care- 
ful and  not  throw  your  life  away  unneces- 
sarily." 

"Miss  Gardner,  it  is  not  my  intention  to 

"      "       "     t  some 

better 

that  I  should  do  it  than  almost  any  other. 
For,  in  all  this  wide  world,  I  have  not  a  rela- 
tive or  friend  that  I  know  of,  and  if  I  should 
lose  my  life  it  would  be  nothing  compared 
with  those  who  have  many  to  mourn  their 
loss.' 

"  Please  do  not  talk  so  to  me,"  she  replied, 
"  lor  no  one  is  so  forsaken  but  must  have,  at 
least,  a  lew  Iriends." 

"I  don't  think  I  have  one,"  he  answered, 
"and  if  you  knew  my  history  as  wellas  I  do, 
you  would  agree  with  me,  I'm  sure." 

"  Beyour  history  as  it  may,  I  willnotagree 
with  you ,  lor  I  know  you  have  at  least  one 
Iriend." 

"  May  I  have  the  liberty  to  inquire  who 
that  Iriend  is  ?"  he  asked. 

"Certainly,"  she  replied,  "  that  Iriend  is 
myself." 

"  Miss  Gardner,  if  you  are  my  friend,  I  am 
most  happy;  lor  your  good  wishes  are  very 
much  to  me.  And  now  as  you  have  pro- 
lessed  to  be  my  friend,  I  propose  to  test  you. 
To  be  plain,  I  love  you  ;  and  although  my 
Tattering, 
my  saber 

to  win  for  myself  a  name  as  a  soldier,  and 
also  try  and  better  mj  circumstances.  Can 
you.  Miss  Gardner,  give  me  one  word  of 
hope  ;  but  one  word  to  encourage  me." 

"  Am  I  to  understand  that  you  wish  me  to 
become  j^our  wile?"  she  asked. 

"  That  is  just  what  I  would  have  you  to 
understaud,"  he  answered;  "I  told  you  I 
loved  you,  and  words  cannot  express  the  af- 
fection that  I  have  felt  for  you  since  we  first 
met.  II  you  will  become  my  wife,  or  even 
promise  to  be,  when  I  am  in  circumstances 
to  marry,  you  will  make  me  one  ol  the  hap- 
piest of  men." 

"  Charles  Radcliffe,  if  I  wished  to  marry 
you  your  circumstances  would  make  no  dif- 
ference to  me.  I  cannot  give  you  one  word 
ol  encouragement.  Difficulties  that  are  be- 
yond my  power  to  control,  and  which  I  am 
not  at  liberty  to  explain,  stand  in  the  way, 
provided  I  was  ever  so  willing." 

"  Aui  I  to  consider  this  a  direct  refusal  ?" 
he  asked. 

"  You  are  to  consider  that  I  have  refused 
to  become  your  wife,  because,  as  I  stated, 
there  are  diffleulties  in  tlie  way  tliat  cannot 
be  put  aside.  I  am  your  liieiid,  ami  wish  to 
see  you  prosper,  and  woiiM  ad\  ise  you  to 
strive  just  as  hard  to  rise  in  the  wurlii  as  if  I 
had  complied  with  your  request,  for  you 
will,  beyond  a  question,  some  day  find 
another  who  will  willingly  and  undoubtedly 
better  fill  my  place  in  your  affections." 

"No  other  woman   will  ever  occupy  the 


place  in  my  heart  that  you  do,"  he  replied; 
"and  now  with  regard  to  the  difficulties 
that  you  speak  of  as  standing  in  the  way  ol 
our  marriage,  do  they  not  arise  from  the 
fact  that  you  are  a  Unionist,  while  I  am  a 
Confederate?" 

"No,  sir;  that  is  not  the  case,"  she  re- 
plied, "and.  although  you  fight  for  a  cause 
I  believe  to  be  wrong,  and  against  the  dear 
old  flag  I  love  so  well,  yet  the  barrier  be- 
tween us  is  greater  than  that." 

"  What  it  can  be,  then,  I  have  not  the  least 
idea,"  he  answered;  then,  looking  at  his 
watch,  he  observed  :  "  it  is  near  four  o'clock 
and  I  must  be  going,"  and  with  a  "good- 
day,"  he  departed. 

As  soon  as  Miss  Gardner  was  alone,  she 
dropped  her  head  upon  her  hands,  and  lor  a 
long  time  remained  thus  in  deep  medita^ 
tion. 

At  last,  she  murmured  to  herself : 

"  Do  I  love  this  man,  or  do  I  hate  him  ? 
He  is  so  handsome  and  brave,  and  appar- 
ently so  manly,  I  can  but  love  him.  But 
then,  again,  I  know  he  is  a  villain ;  for  he 
comes  making  love  to  me  as  passionately  as 
if  I  was  his  first  love,  when  I  know  that  he 
has  at  present  a  wife  living  whom  he  has  de- 
serted, and  of  her  he  says  not  a  word." 
Whereupon  she  burst  into  tears,  aud,  wom- 
an-like wept  lor  a  long  time. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

A     BATTERY     LOST. 

When  Lieutenant  Radcliffe  parted  'Tith 
Miss  Gardner,  he  proceeded  directly  to  Colo- 
nel G  laser's  quarters. 

"  Glad  to  see  you,  lieutenant,  as  I  have 
some  news  lor  you,"  said  the  colonei,  as  the 
scout  entered. 

"  Anything  ol  importance  ?" 

"Yes;  of  considerable  importance.  One 
of  your  prisoners  managed  to  escape  last 
night." 

"  Which  one,  and  how  did  he  get  away?" 
the  scout  asked. 

"  It  was  the  corporal,  I  believe.  It  appears 
that  while  the  other  prisoners  were  asleep, 
he  lorei'd  eiie  of  the  windows  open,  and,  in 
the  dai  kiie>s,  is  supposed  to  have  slipped  out 
liy  lliegiiai'd  and  escaped." 

"  Well,  1  am  (|uite  sorry  that  he  has  got 
away,"  replied  Radcliffe,  "  lor  he  knows  me, 
aud  may  make  me  considerable  trouble  some 
time.  I  think,  colonel,  I  had  better  go  to 
Suffolk  to-night,"  he  continued,  "  lor,  11  X 
give  the  corporal  much  time,  he  may  be  pre- 
l)ared  and  on  the  lookout  lor  me  when  I  do 
go." 

"  Do  just  as  you  think  best,"  the  colonel 
replied. 

"  I  will,"  answered  the  scout. 

Accordingly  he  started  lorth,  and,  a  couple 
of  hours  later,  was  safely  across  the  river, 
aud  within  the  I'nion  lines,  and  at  once  pro- 
ceeded to  Catou's  house  and  rapped  upon  the 
door. 

As  the  scout  approached,  another  person. 


around  in  the  rear  of  the  same. 

The  door  was  opened  by  Jane  Caton,  and, 
recognizing  our  hero,  she  invited  him  to 
enter. 

He  complied  with  her  request,  and,  clos- 
ing the  door  behind  him,  asked  lor  her 
father. 

"  Father's  somewhere  about  the  village," 
she  replied.  "  Please  be  seated  ;  he  will  un- 
doubtedly be  home  before  long." 

Looking  at  her  sharply,  the  scout  said : 

"  I  don't  care  to  remain  here  very  long,  for 
fear  yon  may  send  Corporal  Harper  after  me 
again." 

At  this  remark,  the  woman  looked  as  if  she 
would  like  to  sink  through  the  floor,  but, 
rallying,  she  said : 

"Mr.  Radcliffe,  are  joii  not  mistaken?" 

"I  am  not,"  he  replied:  "  I  know  very  well 
all  about  that  affair,  and,  if  you  are  willing 
to  tell,  I  would  like  to  know  what  prompted 
you  to  do  as  you  did." 

"Mr.  Radcliffe,"  she  said,  beseechingly, 
approaching  him,  "  I  will  tell  you  my  object, 
and  1  imploie  you  to  forgive  me  for  that 
rash  act.  It  wiismylove  for  you  that  prompt- 
ed me.  You  will  forgive  me,  will  you  not? 
for  I  love  you  as  I  never  loved  before ;  and 
I  thought  "if  you  was  but  a  prisoner,  I  would 
in  some  manner  effect  your  release,  and,  by 
that  means,  win  you  to  me." 

"  Miss  Caton,  I  freely  forgive  you,  aud  also 
pity  you  from  the  depth  of  my  heart,  but 
your  love  I  cannot  return.  Now,  we  must 
part  forever:  for  vour  treachery  has  once 
nearly  cost  me  my  life,  and  to  further  jeo- 
pardize it,  would,  I  think,  be  very  unwise.' 

"Stay!  stay!"   she    cried,    giving    way  Lo 


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21 


tears,  and  seis.iTw  bim  by  the  arm  as  he  arose 
to  depart,  but  he  gently  pat  her  away,  aud 
hastened  from  the  house,  and  proceeded  to 
a  retired  boarding-house,  where  he  passed 
the  remainder  of  the  night. 

On  the  moniing  of  the  iiineteeiith,  the 
scout  was  up  brit'ht  aud  e;uly,  aud  havnig 
procured   liienl<fast,   he  tli'-u  St.. lied  ;iliiiut 

inforuuui.iii    li.'   p..ssil.ly  ciiiM    "'I'l  i.-i-':ir.l 

luth.'laK.'i-i.ail  ..r  til,-  .lay  h.'  wan.  I.iv.l 
down  to  til.-  lav.T,  ^vh..■lv  li.' I..un.l  .|..il.>  a 
crowd  of  people  vii-uiiig  a  uiysli-nous  look- 
ins  craft  that  was  fastened  to  the  shore. 

It  was  a  large,  flat  boat,  and  all  around  its 
eides  a  heavy  awning  had  been  raised,  com- 
pletely hiding  from  View  its  interior. 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this?"  asked  the 
Bcout,  of  a  bystander,  pointing  toward  the 
boat. 

"It's  not  generally  known,"  the  man  re- 
plied, "  but  the  Eighty-ninth  New  York  In- 
fantry, is  to  go  down  the  river  on  this  boat, 
and  try  and  capture  the  Confederate  battery 
that  has  annoyed  us  so  much  of  late." 

"  Who  is  in  command  of  the  Eighty-ninth  ?" 
the  scout  asked. 

"  I  don't  know  who  has  command  of  the 
regiment,"  the  man  replied,  '•  but  Captain 
Stevens,  a  young  staff  officer,  is  to  lead  the 

Radcliffe  was  well  aware  that  Longstreet 
had  planted  a  liattery  some  days  before,  in  a 
clearing  near  the  river,  and  about  a  mile  be- 
low the  town.  ,    ,     . 

Four  guns  of  this  battery  commanded  the 
river  and  the  opposite  shore,  while  the  other 
two  raked  a  road  to  the  rear,  by  which  the 
clearing  was  approached. 

"  I  must  try  and  save  the  battery,"  the 
scout  thought  to  himself ;  aud  forth  he 
started,  determined  to  do  his  best  iu  the 
matter,  or  die  in  the  attempt,  ,,    ,. 

To  get  through  the  hues  aud  out  to  his 
boat,  he  well  knew,  would  be  impossible  in 
daylight;  and,  again,  it  would  take  too 
miich  time.  ,    ,     ,  xi 

Accordingly,  he  proceeded  along  up  the 
river,  aud  a  short  distance  above  the  village 
he  found  a  small  boat,  which  lay  bottom 
upward  upon  the  shore.  .^   .    x    x. 

Turning  it  over  and  pushing  it  into  the 
water,  Radcliffe  then  sprung  on  board,  and, 
raising  the  oars,  lieaded  the  boat  down 
stream,  iu  order  to  uiislead  several  soldiers 
who  were  watching  him. 

By  cunning  uiaueuvers,  he  managed  to 
■■h  the  luiTldle  of  the  stream,  and  then 
"  L-tly  toward  the  opposite 
ars  with  a  will,  which 


d£  the  scout,  as  he 


headiugthe  bout  dirt 
shore,  he  plied  the  t 


th. 
of  life. 


.ugh   the    water   like  a 


„  shouted  one  of  the  soldiers,  as 

soon  as  he  discovered  what  our  hero's  inten- 
tions were. 

The  scout  paid  no  attention  to  the  order, 
consequently,  the  soldiers  I'au  down  to  the 
river  and  opened  tire  upon  him. 

Several  bullets  whistled  near  him,  some  of 
which  struck  tlie  boat,  but,  uumindful  of 
them,  he  kept  on  his  way,  aud  a  few 
meuts  later  reachcl  the  shore. 
Sniineins  from  the  boat,  he  started  off  on 
direction  of  the  battery, 
o  the  left,  in  order  to  keep 


a  sharp  ruu  in  th 
makiug  a  circuit 

wellaway  from  iu<;  ii.ci.  ^  .  .,  f 
When  within  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of 
the  battery,  the  scout  came  upon  a  number 
of  infantry  pickets,  who  were  under  the 
command  of  a  young  lieutenant. 

"What's  your  hurry,  my  friend?  asked 
the  commander  of  the  pickets,  as  the  scout 
came  up.  ,        .^,  . 

"  An  attempt  is  to  be  made  withm  a  few 
minutes  to  capture  this  battery,  and  I  have 
come  to  inform  yon  of  it,"  the  scout  replied. 
"  The  enemy  are  coming  down  the  river  on 
a  large  flatboat,  which  is  inclosed  by  a 
heavy  awning,  in  order  to  mislead  the  pick- 
ets above."  .  ,  ,  , 
"  The  pickets  down  by  the  river  have  just 
sent  up  word  that  such  a  boat  was  slowly 
drifting  down  this  way,"  replied  the  lie_uten- 
ant,  "but  I  thought  that  it  was  probably 
some  old  scow  set  adrift  for  the  purpose 
of  haying  our  ai'tillery  waste  their  shots 
upon  it."                                            .,       .J    .. 

"Ah!  there  they  come  now,"  said  the 
scout,  pointing  toward  the  river. 

Looking  iu  the  direction  indicated,  the 
pickets  saw  hastily  approaching,  a  regiment 
of  Union  soldiers.  , 

The  pickets  posted  near  the  river,  and 
some  distance  below  where  the  Federals 
landed,  had  deserted  their  post,  and  were 
falUng  back  toward  the  battery. 
"No  use  of  our  making  any  resistance  to 
of,"  said  the  commander  of  the  piek- 
I  think  our  better  way  is  to  fall  back, 


and  give  the  artillery 

Accordingly,  the  pickets  commenced  fall 
ing  back  slowly,  while  the  scout  hastened  oi 
to  the  battery.  . 

"Do  you  kuow  what   regiment    that  is 
and    who   is   leading   it,"  asked  the 
mander  of  the  artillery,  o, 
came  up.  _  ,  . 

"It's  tlie  Eighty-niuth  New  York,  and  is 
It-ail  by  a  I  aptairi  Sl.\  .'lis,  (.f  General  Get- 
1\-'i  ^talT  "  aiiswia.'.l  tb.-  >.'.-.ut,  "  and  I  some- 
what (vAv  tli.'y  will  ^ixi-  us  considerable 
ti..iil.l.-  {..■i..i.'  ivf  ^.'.t   tint. ugh  with  them." 

•■They  come  like  a  tidal  wave,"  replied 
the  commander  ;  "  but  we  will  make  it  red- 
hot  for  them  before  they  get  here,"  and  he 
went  to  put  his  threats  into  execution. 

Under  the  lead  of  gallant  Captain  Stevens, 


„g  canister  went  tearing  through  the  ranks, 
they  quickly   closed  up   the   spaces  made 
vacant   by   the   dead    and    wounded,    and 
pressed  on  more  determined  than  ever. 
Radcliffe   seized  a  disabled  soldier's  gun, 


erals. 

The  scout  had  only  time  to  load  and  fire  a 
couple  of  shots  when  the  enemy  with  fixed 
bayonets  rushed  upon  them,  and  the  fight 
became  hand  to  hand. 

The  artillerymen  fought  desperately  in  de- 
fense of  their  pieces,  but  all  to  no  avail,  as 
the  enemy  now  had  the  advantage,  and  with 
the  bayonet  drove  them  by  main  force  from 
their  guns,  capturing  many  of  them  as  pris- 

Radcliffe  soon  realized  that  the  battery 
could  not  be  saved,  and  that  further  resis- 
tence  would  only  give  the  enemy  more  pris- 
oners, consequently  he  joined  the  infantry 
who  were  now  slowly  retreating  back  to- 
ward the  timber. 

But  a  short  distance  had  they  proceeded, 
when  a  volley  of  musketry  was  poured  into 
their  disordered  ranks,  and  the  young  in- 
fantry lieutenant  staggered,  and  fell  to  the 
ground,  a  bullet  having  entered  his  r-""-* 
side. 

The  scout  saw  that  the  lieutenant  was  only 
wounded,  and  stepping  up  to  where  he  lay- 
he  asked  if  he  could  render  him  any  assist- 
ance. 

"  Only  tell  my  friends  you  left  me  dying 
on  the  field  of  battle,"  he  answered. 

"  What  is  your  name?"  asked  the  scout. 

"  My  name  is  James  Gardner,"  replied  the 
wounded  men. 

At  mention  of  this  name,  the  scout  stooped 
down  and  raised  the  wounded  officer  from 
the  ground,  then  placing  him  upon  his 
shoulder,  he  strode  rapidly  away. 

Falling  in  with  several  infantrymen,  the 
scout  with  a  couple  of  their  guns  and  a  few 
branches  made  a  rude  htter,  and,  together, 
they  carried  him  on  toward  the  Confederate 
camp.  But  before  half  the  distance  was 
gained,  the  young  officer  breathed  his  last, 
and  the  scout  and  his  companions  carried 
only  the  corpse  of  a  once  bravo  young  sol- 
Arriving  at  camp,  Radcliffe  procured  an 
ambulance,  and  by  it  forwarded  the  body 
to  the  house  where  his  friends  were  then 
staying. 


chance  at  them."     these  invincibles  pressed  steadily  forward, 
^ «««^i  *oii_     oTiri  monv  n.  ( !nnfederflte  bit  ihe  dust  before 


» 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE   EVACUATION. 

On  the  morning  of  the  third  of  May,  an 
orderly  waited  upon  Lieutenant  Radchffe, 
informing  him  that  Colonel  Glaser  wished 
to  see  him  immediately.  Accordingly,  he 
proceedeil  to  the  colonel's  quarters  without 
delay,  aud  was  informed  that  the  enemy 
were  demonstrating  along  the  river,  aud  it 
was  thought  intended  a  general  advance. 

"I  want  you,"  the  colonel  said,  "to  go 
down  toward  the  river  and  learn  if  possible, 
what  regiments,  and  how  many  of  them  the 
enemy  is  throwing  forward,  and  then  report 
to  me  as  soon  as  you  can  conveniently." 

"  I  will  do  all  I  can  in  the  matter,"  the 
scout  replied,  and  bidding  the  colonel  good 
morning,  he  started  forth  to  reconnoiter. 

To  his  own  quarters  the  scout  first  proceed- 
ed, and  arming  himself  with  a  couple  of  re- 
volvers, he  then  turned  his  steps  toward  the 

Arriving  in  the  vicinity  of  the  same,  he 
found  that  a  small  force  of  the  enemy  had 
crossed  over,  and  that  a  lively  sku-mish 
fight  was  going  on.  Workmg  his  way  well 
down  toward  the  Union  lines,  he  found  that 
the  sturdy  Eighty-ninth  New  York,  was  do- 
ing the  greater  part  of  the  skirmishing,  and 
although  the  Confederate  sharpshooters 
were  picking   them   off  considerably,   yet 


and  many  a  Confederate  bit  the  dust  before 
their  unerring  aim.  . 

As  soon  as  the  Federals  were  within 
range,  the  Confederate  artillery  opened  upon 
them,  and  shot  and  shell  went  flying  over 
the  field  dealing  out  death  and  destruction 
on  every  side. 

The  fight  by  this  time  had  become  general, 
and  the  scout  soon  found  that  he  was  in 
about  as  much  danger  from  the  shots  of  his 
friends  as  he  was  of  those  of  the  enemy. 
Consequently,  he  turned  his  steps  to  the 
right,  and  entered  a  small  piece  of  timber, 
which  served  him  as  a  cover  from  the  flying 
shots,  and  which  course  took  him  further 
from  the  field  of  battle. 

For  upwards  of  an  hour  the  scout  prowled 
around  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Union  lines, 
during  which  time  he  learned  considerable 
with  regard  to  their  position  and  numbers. 
Then  starting  on  the  return  toward  the 
Confederate  fines,  he  had  proceeded  but  a 
short  distance,  when  he  ran  smack  upon  a 
Federal  picket  line. 

"You  are  my  prisoner,"  cned  one  of  the 
pickets,  leveling  his  piece  at  him. 

"All  right,"  answered  the  scout,  advano- 

This  answer  put  the  picket  off  guard,  and 
he  lowered  his  gun  to  the  ground. 

In  an  instant,  Radcliffe  drew  a  revolver, 
leveled  it  at  his  antagonist  and  pulled  the 
trigger.  With  the  report  of  the  pistol,  a 
wild  shriek  pierced  the  air,  and  the  picket 
dropping  his  gun,  threw  up  his  ai-ms  and  f  »U 
back  lifeless.  ,  „  ^       ,    ,    j 

Then  before  the  astonished  Federals  had 
recovered  from  the  surprise  which  his  re- 
sistance had  created,  the  scout  bounded 
away  through  the  timber  like  a  deer ;  and, 
although  they  gave  chase  and  also  dis- 
charged their  pieces  at  him,  yet  he  managed 
to  elude  them,  and  an  hour  later  reached 
the  Confederate  lines,  through  which  he  had 
no  trouble  to  pass,  and  after  some  difficulty 
he  found  Colonel  Glaser. 

"Well,    lieutenant,    how    did   you    make 

"  Very  good,"  he  rejoined.  "  I  found  the 
Eighty-ninth  New  York  with  a  heavy  skir- 
mish line,  and  supported  by  the  One  Hun- 
dred and  Twenty-seventh,  One  Hundred 
and  Forty-third  aud  One  Hundred  and 
Forty-fourth  New  York  regiments,  slow- 
ly but  steadily  pushing  back  our  ad- 
vance, while  several  other  regiments, 
which  I  think  belong  to  the  Connec- 
ticut brigade,  have  later  gotten  into 
position,  and  are  now  engaging  our 
forces  in  good  earnest.  From  what  I  can 
learn,  I  think  General  Peck  has  been  heavily 
reinforced,  and  now  means  to  openly  give 
us  battle."  .      .,  ^^        ,       , 

"That  is  my  impression,"  the  colonel  re- 
plied. "  And  now,  lieutenant,  I  have  to  tell 
you  that  the  commander  has  concluded  to 
evacuate  our  position,  and  the  orders  have 
already  been  given  for  the  army  to  fall 
hack."  .     ,  ^, 

"  I  am  very  sorry  to  hear  it,"  the  scout  re- 
plied; "but  I  suppose  our  general  knows 
what  is  best.  What  further  assistance  can  1 
give  you,  colonel?"  ,.    , 

"None  at  present,"  the  colonel  replied; 
"  and  if  you  have  any  business  of  your  own 
you  wish  to  transact  before  leaving,  you 
are  at  liberty  to  attend  to  it." 

Immediately  parting  with  the  colonel. 
Lieutenant  Radcliffe  turned  his  steps  toward 


the  house  where  Miss  Gardner  was  staying. 

It  was  quite  late  in  the  afternoon  when  he 
reached  the  place,  and  rapping  lightly  at 
the  door,  it  was  opened  by  the  young  lady 
in  question,   who  gave  him  a  hearty  wel- 

"  Good  afternoon,  lieutenant ;  you  are  just 
the  person  1  was  wishing  to  see,"  she  said, 
extending  to  him  her  hand. 

"  Then  I  am  very  elad  that  I  am  here,"  he 
rejoined.  "  I  thought  as  the  army  was  to 
leave,  that  possibly  I  might  be  of  some  ser- 
vice to  you,  that  is  ho  w  I  happened  to  come." 

"  Well,  lieutenant,  you  can  be  of  service  to 
me  by  assisting  me  to  get  over  to  the  vil- 
lage, from  which  place  I  can  easily  reach  my 
home  at  Norfolk." 

"  As  soon  as  it  is  dark  I  will  put  you  safely 
across  the  river,"  the  scout  rephed.  "By 
the  way.  Miss  Gardner,  how  is  your  uncle  at 
present?" 

"  He  has  been  improving  considerable  ot 
late,  and  to-day,  as  soon  as  he  learned  that 
the  army  was  to  be  withdi-awn,  he,  with 
other  disabled  officers,  set  out  for  Peters- 
burg in  an  ambulance.  This  being  the  first 
time  I  have  seen  you  since  my  cousin  met 
his  death,"  she  continued,  "allow  me  to 
thank  you,  both  for  my  uncle  and  myself, 
lor  the  great  service  you  rendered  us  by 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


bringing,  at  the  peril  of  your  own  life,  my 
cousin  from  the  field  of  Ijattle,  and  iu  for- 
warding his  body  to  us  after  his  death." 

"  M-iss  Gardner,  I  never  saw  your  cousin, 
Lieutenant  Gardner,  until  that  day.  We 
were  in  the  flght  together  and  fought  side 
by  side.  He  was  brave  and  undaunted,  and 
to  the  enemy  never  yielded  an  inch  of 
ground  until  after  the  guns  were  silenced 
and  the  conflict  became  hand  to  hand,  and 
until  he  saw  that  we  were  overpowered,  and 
were  to  be  bayoneted  or  taken  prisoners. 
Then,  when  we  sought  safety  in  flight,  the 
enemy  poured  a  volley  into  our  ranks,  and 
among  those  that  fell  was  your  cousin.  I 
saw  that  he  was  mortally  wounded ;  and 
when  he  told  me  his  name,  and  requested 
me  to  carry  a  message  to  his  friends,  I 
could  not  bear  to  see  him  fall  into  the  hands 
of  the  enemy;  consequently,  I  carried  him 
from  the  field,  and  in  so  doing,  did  only 
what  I  considered  my  duty  as  a  soldier." 

"It  was  a  noble  act,  for  which  we  feel 
very  thankful,  as  it  gave  us  a  chance  to 
bury  the  body  where  we  can  have  it  disin- 
terred at  our  will.  What  a  charmed  life 
you  lead,  lieutenant,"  she  continued.  "Amid 
all  the  dangers  by  which  you  are  constantly 
surrounded,  you  have  thus  far  escaped  with- 
out a  scratch." 

"I  have  been  very  lucky,"  the  scout  re- 
plied; "but  how  long  it  will  last  nobody 
knows."  Then  he  related  to  her  the  adven- 
ture he  that  day  had  had  with  the  I'ederal 
pickets. 

That  night,  as  soon  as  it  was  dark,  our 
hero  and  heroine  entered  a  carriage  and 
were  driven  out  to  the  place  where  the  for- 
mer's boat  was  concealed. 

Dismissing  the  carriage,  the  scout  then  as- 
sisted his  fair  companion  into  the  boat  and 
quietly  rowed  out  mto  the  river. 

Heading  the  boat  directly  toward  the  vil- 
lage, he  vigorously  bent  to  his  work,  and  in 
a  short  time  landed  near  the  upper  end  of 
the  town. 

They  proceeded  to  the  residence  of  an 
acquaintance  of  hers,  where  she  proposed  to 


'  "Miss  Gardner,  we  must  now  part,  and, 
;  for  all  we  know,  it  may  be  forever;  but,  be- 
fore I  leave  you,  I  must  again  tell  you  that 
I  love  and  worship  you  with  all  my  heart 
and  soul ;  and  if  you  could  but  promise  to 
be  my  wife,  it  would  make  me  the  happiest 
mau  that  exists." 

"Lieutenant  Radcliffe,  you  have  rendered 
me  many  a  good  service,  for  which  I  feel 
very  grateful,  but  I  have  again  to  tell  you 
that  I  cannot  be  your  wife.  As  I  before  in- 
formed you,  circumstances  that  are  beyond 
my  power  to  control,  prevent  any  such  ar- 
rangement between  us." 

For  a  short  time  they  stood  hand  in  hand, 
deep  emotions  surging  iu  the  bosoms  of 
each.  Then,  bidding  each  other  farewell, 
they  parted. 

She  rang  the  door-bell  and  was  admitted, 
and  warmly  welcomed  by  her  friends,  while 
he  recrossed  the  river,  and  started  on  in  pur- 
suit of  the  already  retreating  army. 


old  man  suifl.  as  the  captain  gently  laid  him 
back  upon  the  ground  after  he  had  quenched 
his  thirst. 

"Caul  do  anything  more  for  you?"  the 
captain  asked. 

"  No,  comrade,  I  think  not.  I  am  mortaln 
ly  wounded,  and  beyond  all  aid.  I  am  eve- 
now  fast  passing  away,  and  I   would  advise 

to  linger  no  long: 
enemy  are  liable  to 
ment." 

"I  care  not  for  the  enemy,"  the  captain 
replied,  "  and  if  it  is  in  my  power  to  relieve 
your  sufferings  in  any  way,  I  am  willing  to 
doit." 

"Comrade,"  the  old  man  rejoined,  with 
some  diflaculty,  his  breath  coming  short  and 
hard,  "one  favor  I  will  ask  of  you, 
and  I  want  you  to  promise  me  that  you  will 
see  my  request  complied  with." 

"  Anything  that  lies  in  my  power  I  will  do 
to;accommodate  you,"  the  captain  replied. 

"Then,  here  in  my  side-pocket,  a  letter 
you  will  find.  This  letter  I  wrote  a  few  days 
ago,  and  was  intending  to  forward  it  as  soon 
as  a  chance  presented  itself  to  the  one  to 
whom  it  is  addressed,  so  that  in  case  I  never 
saw  home  again,  a  great  wrong  which  I  once 
committed  might  be  made  light.  Now,  what 
I  ask  of  j-ou  is  to  see,  as  soon  as  it  is  conven- 
ient, that  this  letter  is  forwarded  to  the  one 
tojwhom  it  is  directed." 

t  designated  the  captain 
and  glanced  at  the  ad- 


From 
drew  ft 
dress  m' 


inln 


Norfolk,  Va." 
that   the   letter   reaches  the 


CHAPTER  X. 
CONCLUSION. 

April  1, 1865. 

It  was  the  battle  of  Five  Forks,  and  the 
army  of  Northern  Virgiuia  was  in  full  re- 
treat. 

The  Federal  dragoons  hung  close  upon  the 
retiring  columns  of  the  Confederates,  cap- 
turing and  making  prisoners  all  those  who, 
by  chance,  became  cut  off  from  the  main 
body. 

In  a  little  ravine,  by  the  side  of  a  sluggish 
flowing  stream,  where  the  beautiful  cypress 
trees  grew  thick  and  tall,  and  made  a  gor- 
geous, pleasant  shade,  a  sharp  flght  had 
taken  place  between  a  small  party  of  troop- 
ers and  a  score  of  Confederate  infantrymen, 
and  an  old,  gray-haired  otHcer,amajor,  who 
commanded  the  Confederates,  had  been 
mortally  wounded,  axid  upon  the  field  had 
been  left  to  die,  with  no  other  companions 
but  the  dead  braves  who  had  fallen  in  the 
conflict. 

Half  an  hour  later,  a  dozen  Confederate 
stragglers  passed  that  way,  and  discovered 
the  dying  veteran. 

One,  a  young  man  in  the  uniform  of  a  cap- 
tain, stopped  and  knelt  beside  him. 

"  Comrade,  what  can  I  do  for  you?"  the 
captain  asked. 

"  For  the  love  of  Heaven,  give  me  a  drink 
•f  water."  the  wounded  veteran  replied 

The  young  captain  raised  the  old  man's 
head,  and  to  his  lips  pressed  his  canteen. 

"  "ftat  makes  me  feel  much  better,"  the 


Then  you  will  confer  a  great  favor  upou 
a  dying  comrade,"  the  major  answered. 

"  If  it  is  no  secret,  major,  I  would  like  to 
know  your  name,"  said  his  companion. 

"In  the  army  I  am  known  as  Major 
Thomas  Gardner,"  he  replied  with  great 
difficulty;  "  years  ago  I  was  kno-wn  as— as— 
as " 

His  breath  came  iu  short,  fitful  gasps,  and 
with  one  grand  effort  he  raised  himself  to  a 
half-sitting  position,  then  his  strength  gave 
way  and  with  a  heavy  groan  he  fell  back 
dead. 

For  a  moment  the  young  captain  remained 
silent,  then  to  himself  he  murmured :  "  Both 
father  and  son  upou  the  field  of  battle  have 
I  seen  die." 

Then  Captain  Charles  Radcllfte  hastened 
on  in  pursuit  of  one  of  his  companions,  leav- 
ing the  old  warrior  and  his  dead  comrades 
to  sleep  their  last  sleep  beneath  the  cypress 
shade. 


One  morning  in  June,  1865,  the  good  old 
steamer  Louisiana  was  to  be  seen  making  her 
way  up  the  Elizabeth  River,  her  huge  wheels 
lashing  the  water  into  foam  as  she  sped  on 
toward  her  destination,  Norfolk. 

As  soon  as  the  city  was  reached  and  the 
vessel  made  fast  to  the  pier,  a  young  man  of 
noble  appearance  hastened  on  shore  and 
calling  a  cab  took  his  seat  within  and  order- 
ed the  driver  to  proceed  immediately  to  No. 

—  Cumberland  street. 

Arriving  at  the  number  designated  the 
young  man  paid  and  discharged  the  cabman, 

-  "  " "■      "       ■  ■■  Bbell. 

said   a 

young  woman  with  some  surprise,  as  she 
opened  the  door. 

"Yes,  Miss  Gardner;  I  am  here  as  the 
bearer  of  a  message  from  your  uncle." 

'Then  come  to  the  sitting-room,"  she  an- 


swered, leading  the  way. 

"When  and  where  did   yo 
uncle,"  she  asked,  handing  him  a  chaii 


70U  last 


It  was  at  the  battle  of  Five  Forks  that  I 
first  and  last  saw  him.  On  the  retreat  I 
found  him  lying  by  the  roadside  mortally 
wounded,  and  by  his  side  I  remained  until 
he  breathed  his  last." 

"  My  last  friend  is  then  dead !"  she  replied 
with  emotion,  as  tears  coursed  down  her 
cheeks. 

"  Here  is  a  letter  your  uncle  requested  me 
to  forward  to  you,  and  knowing  of  no  better 
way,  I  brought  it  in  person,"  Radcliflfe  said, 
handing  her  the  same. 

Miss  Gardner  broke  open  the  letter,  and 
as  she  perused  its  contents,  her  tears  sprink- 
led down  upon  the  paper.  When  she  had 
finished  reading,  she  said : 

"Mr.  Radcliffe,  I  am  greatly  indebted  to 
you  for  the  pains  you  have  taken  in  deliver- 
ing this  letter,  as  it  contains  information 
that  is  worth  more  than  gold  to  me." 

"  That  being  the  case,  I  feel  well  repaid 
for  all  the  trouble  it  has  been  to  me.  Miss 
Gardner,"  he  continued  ;  "you  just  said  in 
speaking  of  your  uncle  that  your  last  friend 


was  dead.  Can  I  not  be  your  friend  ?  For 
the  third  time,  will  you  be  my  wife?" 

"Charles  Radcliffe,"  «he  answered,  "you 
ask  me  to  become  your  wife.  Have  you  not 
one  wife  already  ?" 

"I  was  once  married,"  he  replied,  "but 
circumstances  which  were  beyond  my  power 
to  control  parted  my  wife  from  me,  and  I 
have  never  seen  or  even  heard  from  her 
since." 

"  Please  to  tell  me  all  about  it,"  she  asked. 

"Wlien  I  wa.-i  hut  a  boy,  at  my  father's 
reiiiu-.-it  I  was  married  to  a  mere  girl,  a  love- 
ly, luautiful  creature,  whom  I  had  seenjjut 
a  few  tunes,  yet  I  loved  her  withallmy  boy- 
ish luait.  Iinmi'.liately  after  my  marriage. 
1  Weill  Zvoi'tU  to  complete  my  education, 
and  my  wife,  who  was  an  orphan,  went  to 
live  with  an  uncle. 

"  My  father  was  quite  wealthy,  and  lived 
at  Lynchburg,  Virgiuia,  at  the  time  of  my 
marriage.  But  shortly  after,  he  was  strick- 
en down  with  fever,  and  after  a  brief  ill- 
ness, died.  Then  it  was  found  that  just  pre- 
vious to  his  death  he  had  invested  nearly  all 
his  fortune  in  a  bogus  mining  speculation, 
and  when  his  affairs  were  settled,  not  a  dol- 
lar was  left.  About  the  time  I  was  inform- 
ed of  this,  I  also  received  a  letter  from  my 
wife's  uncle,  stating  that  my  father  had  died 
baukrupt,  and  that  it  was  now  apparent 
his  ouly  object  iu  my  marriage  was  to  se- 
cure to  me  the  immense  fortune  which  my 
wife  was  known  to  be  heir  to. 

"The  letter  further  stated  that  for  this 
act,  of  which  I  must  have  known  and  been  a 
party  to,  my  wife  now  looked  on  me  with 
contempt,  and  wished  me  to  understand 
that  henceforth  we  were  two  ;  and  also  that 
it  would  do  me  no  good  to  seek  for  her,  as 
by  the  time  I  received  the  letter  she  would 
be  iu  Europe. 

"It  was  a  heavy  blow  for  me,  as  I  loved 
my  girl-wife  dearly.  I  was  among  strangers 
without  money  or  friends,  and  in  my  per- 
plexity I  returned  to  Lynchburg.  There  I 
reniaiueil  al)out  a  year,  then  the  war  broke 
out  anil  1  entered  the  army.  In  due  course 
of  time  1  met  with  you,  and  from  that  day 
to  this  I  have  loved  vou  with  all  my  heart 
and  soul.  What  my  life  has  been  since  we 
first  met  matters  but  little,  suffice  to  say 
the  Confederacy,  as  you  well  know,  has 
gone  down  in  ruin,  and  the  old  flag,  against 
whicliIhavM  foiiL'lit  so  long,  and  which  I 
could  but  loveal  the  same  time,  a;;-ain  waves 


"<;'bailes   Ka 
when 

story  agree, 
can  but  bel 


'  Gulf.' 


hail 


lil'lle,  said  Jliss  Gartluer 
Hnislied  his  reeital,  "your 
well  with  this  letter  that  I 
you.  Now  allow  me  to  tell 
you  that  the  wife  which  you  profess  to  have 
loved  so  much,  still  lives,  and  at  this  mo- 
ment is  uot  far  a wa v,  and  also  that  she  has 
ever  and  does  at   t!ie  present  time,  love  you 

"If.thatis  the  ease.  .Miss  Gardner,"  he  re- 
plied, with  einotiou,  "please  to  tell  me 
where  she  is  to  be  found  ?" 

"  Charles  Radcliffe,"  she  answered,  rising 
to  her  feet,  " your  wife  stands  before  you!" 

"  What!  you  my  wife?"  be  cried,  advanc- 
ing toward  her. 

"  Yes,  Charles,  I  am  your  wife,  she  an- 
swered, and  the  next  moment  they  were 
locked  in  each  others  arms,  and  raining 
sweet  kisses  upon  each  other's  lips. 

"My  darling!  this  explains  why  I  have 
loved  you  so  much,"  said  our  hero,  as  they 
seated  themselves  upon  the  sofa,  "and  you 
must  have  known  me  all  the  time." 

"  Yes,  Charles,  not  only  did  I  recognize 
you  by  that  scar  on  your  forehead,  but  if 
you  recollect,  I  asked  and  you  told  me 
your  name." 

"  That  being  the  case,  Fanny,  why  did  you 
not  tell  me  at  first  that  you  was  my  wife  ?" 

"  I  will  tell  you,  Charles,  why  I  did  not; 
like  yourself,  I  was  deceived.  My  uncle  not 
only  informed  me  that  your  father  had  died 
bankrupt  but  also  that  you  had  left  school 
and  was  leading  the  wild,  desperate  life  of  a 
gambler,  and  that  you  disowned  me  as  your 
wife.  Consequently,  it  was  an  easy  matter 
for  him  to  influence  me  to  accompany  him 
to  New  Orleans.  There  we  remained  until 
the  wai  broke  out,  and  then,  under  the  as- 
sumed name  of  Gardner,  which  he  took  for 
reasons  I  forbear  mentioning,  we  came  to 
this  city,  where  my  uncle  and  cousin  soon 
entered  the  Confederate  army." 

"  What  reason  could  your  uncle  have  had 
to  have  been  so  cruel  as  to  separate  us  in 
such  a  manner?"  Charles  asked. 

"  Read  that  letter,  and  it  will  explain  all." 
said  his  wife,  handing  him  the  one  he  had 
brought  her.    Charles  took  the  letter,  and 
read  its  contents,  whieh  were  as  follows  : 
"  Peteksbtjrg.  Va.,  March  25, 1865. 

"My  Dear  Niece  Faxxt  :— Since  we  flrst  eeMled  at 
Norfolk  many  chanties  have  token  place  that  1  did  not 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY 


23 


THOJLib  MONTEITH. 


"  Fanny,"  said  her  husband  as  he  finished 
reading  the  letter,  "I  was  by  both  your 
uncle  and  cousin's  sidewhiv-iL  they  breathed 
their  last,  aud  they  died  like  lu-av.-  soldiers 
that  they  were.  I  usk.-.l  \,,iii  iinile  his 
name,  he  told  me  his  asrium.  a  ,,iir,  and,  dy- 
ing, tried  to  tell  the  real  on.-  b\it  laileil;  and, 
although  through  him  we  have  been  greatly 
wronged,  yet  I  am  willing  to  forgive  him,  as 
I  expect  to  be  forgiven  for  my  sins  by  our 
Father  above." 

"  I,  too,  freely  forgive  him,"  answered  his 
wife. 

A  : 
withdrew 

Harper  penned    and    mailed  the  following 
letter : 

•'MISS  Jane  Caton  :-There  is  no  use  in  telling  you 


how  much  1 


Many' times  _ you   deceived  i 

which  I  will  ^splaii 
undoubtedly  i 


lallu 


.  night  called  to  make  3 


er.    'May 
prayer  of 


oner  by  the  Confederal 

and  the  ne.vt  night  called    _  _  .  . 

I  approached  the  house  1  saw  that  Oonfede: 
Radcliffe  enter,  and,  playing  the  spy,  I  heard 
claratlon  of  love  for  him.  Then  I  realized  vr 
you   had  made  of  me,  and  with  this  keen 

Heaven  forgive  and  unite  us  '  is  the  fareweir 

A  few  d  ays  after  Jane  Catou  received  the 
above  letter,  she  learned  of  Corporal  Har- 
per's death  ;  she  then  mysteriously  disap- 
peared from  Suffolk,  and  a  wi-ek  later  her 
body  was  found  by  some  Imutmeu  at  low 
tide  upon  a.  bar  in  the  Xausemoud  but  a 
short  distance  below  the  towu. 

Her  father,  Samuel  Caton,  turned  guer- 
rilla, and  iu  lStl4  was  shot  near  Suffolk  by  a 
Federal  cavalrvraan. 

To-day  t^harles  KadeliSe  and  his  noble, 
loving  wife  reside  iu  a  beautiful  mansion 
situated  on  the  Elizabeth  river,  but  three 
miles  from  Noitolk. 

They  have  beeu  blessed  with  two  beauti- 
ful children,  a  boy  and  a  girl,  and  many 
times,  seated  by  their  father's  side,  they  at- 
tentively listen  to  the  stories  he  tells  of  the 
time  when  he  was  The  Scoot  of  the  Nan- 
SEMON'D,  and  their  mother,  who  knows  some- 
thing about  it,  vouches  for  the  truth  of  his 
statements. 

[THE  E^^).] 

T.  J.'s  Cavalry  Charge. 

BT   CONFEDERATE   GRAY. 


1862,  that  a  man  clad  iu  a  soiled  and  tattered 


North  Carolina.  Timothy  J.  McSnorter  was 
his  name,  known  in  all  that  region  of  coun- 
try as  "T.J." 

He  was  an  original  character— a  flrst-class 
ranter;  a  rude  kind  of  eloquence,  a  stentor- 
ian voice,  and  certain  pecuUarities  of  ora- 
torical style,  had  won  for  him  among  his 
unsophisticated  neighbors  and  acquaint- 
ances the  reputation  of  a  powerful  lawyer. 

Tall,  raw-boned,  angular,  and  cadaverous, 
with  eyes  large,  wide,  and  turning  almost 
over  in  their  sockets,  a  mouth  so  wide  that 
it  seemed  as  if  it  had  been  made  by  a  trans- 
verse blow  with  the  edge  of  a  hatchet,  his 
cheek  bulged  with  a  quid  of  "'bacca"  as 
large  as  a  hen  b  egg,  a  voice  as  harsh  as  the 


n    a  d  oud  as  to 

ne    he  bellow- 
B    han 

f  side-split- 

k    np    h  ir,  slonch- 

h    n       ho    e-pistol  at 

ef   kn  e         lUg  on  the 

he    h       et  off  to  his 

h     pent-up     oquence  of 

Gn  mny  ha  ak  here  I  have 
n  and  wh       I  a  u       u  have  been  to 

en    d  fl    d  wh  uu       n    ve,  where 

b         g    am     wh     e  shimmer, 

wh        mu  k  a  wh    e  cannons 

p  n        n  m  nd  y         hat  I  once 

thought  the  bar  was  the  fittest  place  for  the 
display  of  the  remarkable  talents  with 
which  my  Creator,  in  His  unerring  wisdom, 
was  pleased  to  endow  me.  I  was  '  some '  at 
the  bar;  yes,  a  whole  team,  with  the  tai- 
bueket  hung  on  the  coupUug-pole,  and  a  big 
yaller  dog  under  the  wagon.  Bill  Simmons, 
you  know  who  I  was,  for  who  saved  you 
from  the  d.amuiug  infamy  of  the  whipping- 
post ?  You  know  it,  too,  Tom  Snickers,  for 
had  it  not  Ijeeii  for  my  profound  legal  ac- 
quirements and  Demostheneau  eloquence, 
you  would  be,  at  this  very  hour,  with  crop- 
ped hair  and  zebra  pants,  making  yourself 
useful  in  the  public  jail  and  penitentiary  of 
the  state,  sir ! 

"And  you,  Dave  Wilkins,  cannot  be  ignor- 
ant on  this  subject,  for  it  was  my  legal  acu- 
men and  my  pathetic  appeals  to  the  sympa- 
thies of  a  brainless  jury  composed  of  such 
sap-headed  men  as  yon,  Sam  Jones,  and  you, 
John  Smith,  that  sent  Dave  forth,  not  as  a 
convicted  felon  to  the  scaffold,  where  he 
ought  to  have  gone,  but  to  the  eujoyment  of 
a  worthless  existence  and  an  unappreciated 
liberty,  sir!" 

Each  of  the  gentlemen  thus  courteously 
appealed  to,  bowed  acquiescence  as  he  was 
individually  addressed,  and  when  T.  J.  fin- 
ished they  all  bowed  together. 

"Yes,"  he  continued,  "  that's  so,  geiitle- 
men ;  but,  as  I  was  about  to  remark,  there 


is  the  theater  id  war— war,  the  uoblest 
sciences— war,  tlie  mightest  and  the  grand- 
est of  all  the  games  of  chance — war,  a' game 
iu  which  steel-panoplied  battalions  are  the 
cards,  and  empires  the  stakes,  sir!  Yes, 
gentlemen,  war  is  T.   J.'s  natural  element, 

"  At  first  I  joined  the  infantry,  and  a 
^rand  arm  of  the  service  it  is,  too.  Hoosiers, 
hke  you,  leared  in  these  mountain  gorges, 
have  no  conception  of  the  partplayed  by  in- 
fantry during  an  engagement. 

"  Well,  I  will  tell  you  how  the  thing 
works,  sir!  First,  a  line  of  crack  shots  is 
thrown  to  the  fi-ont  to  feel  the  enemy  and 
to  gain  time  for  the  formation  of  the  grand 
line  of  battle. 

"  These  men  are  called  skirmishers.  When 
they  see  the  enemy  they  begin  to  pop  at 
them  at  '  long  taw,'  but,  by  and  by  they  are 
forced  back  by  superior  numbers,  and  then 
the  main  column  begins  to  play  its  part.  It 
is  not  the 'pop— pop— pop,' as  it  was  with 
the  skirmishers,  but  at  first  the  united  fire 
of  a  company  here  and  there,  then  of  a  re- 
giment; and  then,  all  of  a  sudden,  a  deafen- 
ing roar  from  battalions,  regiments,  bri- 
gades, divisions,  and  ivhole  corps,  rends  the 
air,  sir ! 

"  Soon  comes  the  thrilling  order :  '  Charge 


mighty  enginery  emerges  from  its  curtain 
of  smoke  and  flame,  and  sweeps  onward  to 
grapple  in  fearful  embrace  with  the  eager 
and  on-rushing  foe,  sir ! 


"  Tired  going  through  the  mud  from  day- 
light until  dark,  and  often  far  into  the 
night;  weighted  down  with  knapsack  and 
musket  and  cartridge-box;  sometimes 
double-quicking  for  miles,  sometimes  stand- 
ing still  for  hours  in  the  drenching  rain  or 
driving  snow,  bespattered  with  mud  by  the 
dashing  cavalry,  and  always  expected  to  do 
the  hardest  fighting,  I  found  that  the  in- 


Dave  Wilkins  sugar  kettle;  and  so  far 
that  you  can't  get  away  from  it;  and  it 
cracks  louder  than  all  the  shot-guns  in  this 
county  put  together  would ;  and  it  tears  a 
hole  big  euough  for  a  three-year  old  bear  to 
crawl  into.  That's  what  it  is,  sir;  that's 
what  it  is. 

"  Infantry  is  a  grand  arm  of  the  service, 
gentlemen,  but  it  won't  compare  with  th« 
artillery.  Boom !  boom !  boom !  and  then, 
from  a  hundred  brazen,  belching  throats, 
comes  a  simultaneous  crash,  shaking  earth 
and  heaven,  and  rolling  through  the  firma- 
ment like  the  voice  of  doom  through  the 
ca\erns  of  the  damned !  And  such  execu- 
tion !  The  solid  shot  tear  through  the  for- 
ests like  a  tornado ;  the  shell  shriek  through 
the  air  like  distracted  tieiuls;  L-iajH-  and 
canister  mow  down  coniiKii;ii^  ml  lei^i- 
ments  as  a  first-class  Jle(  .1  mii  k  ~  najier 
lays  wheat  in  a  harvest  tiehl;  wlnle  with 
each  discharge  the  grim  monsters  leap  high 
in  air,  as  if  exulting  in  their  capacity  lor  the 
destruction  of  our  race.  Ah,  the  artillery  is 
indeed  sublime! 

"  But  I  soon  got  tired  of  it.  It  is  very  con- 
venient and  comfortable  to  ride  along  on  a 
caisson  while  on  the  march;  but  in  action 
there  is  too  much  hard  work  lifting  those 
heavy  guns,    and   just   a   Uttle   too    much 


I  quit  the  artillery  and  join  the  cavalry. 
"  You  may  talk  about  infantry  and  ab( 


to 

may  talk  about  infantry  and  a'bouf 
artillery,  but  after  all  the  cavalry  is  just  the 
thing  for  a  man  of  spirit  like  J.  T.  It  is  after 
the  infantry  and  artillery  have  broken  and 
shattered  the  columns  of  the  euemv,  that 
the  cavalry  arm  of  the  service  isT.rought 
into  play.  First,  you  hear  a  rumblingsou'nd 
as  of  an  earthi^nake  rapidly  approacliing. 
Clear  the  track^sfc  is  a  cavalry  charge !  Here 
tliey  come,  column  upon  column,  horses 
and  riders ;  a  thousand  spm-s  pressed  to  a 
thousand  quivering  Uanks:  a  thousand 
streaming  plumes  on  a  thousand  heliueted 
heads;  a  thousand  sabers  raised  iu  aii- !  The 
very  horses  seem  infused  with  the  spirit  of 
their  riders.  With  fieiyeyes,  e-\panded  uos- 
trils,  and  every  nerve  and  muscle  in  full 
play,  they  thunder  down  upon  the  af- 
frighted, flying,  shrieking  foe,  while  pistol- 
shot  and  saber-stroke  are  doing  their  work 
of  carnage  and  of  death  ! 

"  But,  gentlemen,  why  try  to  describe  that 
which,  iu  itself,  is  indescribable/  I  will 
show  you  how  the  thing  is  done!" 

So,  fixing  his  feet  firmly  in  his  stirrups,  T. 
J.  rode  proudly  down  the  street  some  two 
hundred  yards.  Here  he  halted,  about-faced, 
and  drew  his  pistol. 

By  this  time,  every  man,  woman  and  child 
in  the  village,  attracted  by  the  well-known 
voice,  had  collected  on  the  sidewalk. 

Straightening  himself  up,  grasping  the 
reins  witli  his  left  hand,  and  inclining  his 
body  forw.ard  at  an  angle  of  about  forty- 
five  degrees,  T.  J.  drove  his  spurs  into  the 
flanks  of  his  horse.  The  animal  responded 
to  the  touch  of  the  steel,  and  up  street 
they  came,  the  sparks  flying  from  the  heels 
of  the  steed  at  every  furious  bound. 

Having  passed  over  about  half  the  dis- 
tance, T.  J.  suddenly  leveled  his  pistol  di- 
rectly to  the  front,  and  as  he  shouted  "Fire!" 
pulled  the  trigger,  and  in  an  instant  horse 
and  rider  rolled  in  the  dust. 

The  horse,  shot  directly  through  the  back 
of  his  head,  gave  one  groan  and  was  dead. 

As  T.  J.  slowly  gathered  himself  up,  he 
cast  a  rueful  glance  at  his  horse ;  then  with, 
"There  now,  won't  Betsy  give  me  particular 
fits !"  he  slowly  hobbled  to  the  sidewalk. 

Reader,  if  you  wish  to  avoid  a  personal 
difficulty,  never  say  a  single  word  to  T.  J. 
about  his  grand  cavalry  charge.  He  now 
swears  that  the  cavalry  is  a  humbug — "  tm, 
unmitigated  humbug,  srr  !" 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


Catalogue  of  the  War  Library. 


1  lO-BIVOUAC  AND  BATTLE.    Hoync. 
I  12-THROUCH    FIRE.    By  w.  Wilmot. 
I  13-IVIUZZLE  TO  MUZZLE.    By  Park. 
I  |5-SHERIDAN'S  SPY.    By  Miller,  M.D. 
116-ON    THE    CHICKAHOMINY. 
I  17-FICHTINC  FOR  THE  FLAC. 
t  18    FARLEY,  THE  SCOUT. By Wilmot 
1  19-DOWN  IN  VIRGINIA.    By  Walsh. 
I20-MARCHINC    THRO'    GEORGIA. 
121-THE  MYSTERIOUS  MAJOR. 
122-CHICKAMAUCA.    Bv  Mackintosh. 
123    THE    SIGNAL    FLAC.    ByEHor. 
124-SHELBY'S  MEN.    By  Leon  Lenoir. 
125-BAYONET    BEN.    By  A.  F.  Grant. 
126-THE    MISSISSIPPI   SCOUT. 
127-GRANT,  "THE    HAMMERER." 
128-THE  BLOCKADE  RUNNERS. 
129-BEFOREDONELSON.    By  Vincent. 
ISO-CHARGE  BAYONETS.    Steadraan. 
131 -SOLD  FOR  A  SOLDIER.  Edwards. 
132-UNDER  LITTLE    MAC.    Grant. 
133-BATTLE  ECHOES.    Brisbane. 
134-THE  YANKEE  PRIVATEER. 
135-STARS  AND  STRIPES,    barren. 
136-MAJOR  PAULINE  CUSHMAN. 
137-UNDER  TWO   FLAGS.    Redwing. 
138-THE   DRUMMER  BOY.    Wiimot. 
139-CANNONEER  BOB.    By  Maj.  Grant. 
140— WILD  BILL.    Bv  Major  Sam.  S.  Hall, 
141-RIVAL  CAPTAINS.    By  Col.  Eflor. 

142-THE  OLD  FLAG.  By  Captain  Forrest. 

143-BATTLE  BEN.    By  Morris  KedwinR. 
144-KNAPSACK  NICK.    By  M.  Hoyne, 

145-SEVEN  PINES.    By  Warren  Walters. 

146-ALL  FORCLORY.    By  Maj.  Wilmot. 

)47-FIGHTINC  FOR  FAME.    Itedwing. 

I  48-"  ON  TO  GETTYSBURG."  Manly. 

149-DASHINC  O'DONOHOE.    Carlton. 
-150-L1FE  IN  LIBBY  PRISON.    Warren 

151-SHOULDER-STRAPS.   By  Wilmot. 

152    SHERIDAN  AT  APPOMATTOX. 

153-IRON  AND  STEEL.  Maj. A.F.Grant. 

154-HAWKIN'S  ZOUAVES,    Wilmot. 

155-MALVERN  HILL.    By  Morris  Hoyne. 

156-TRUE  AS  STEEL.    By  MacUnt  .sh. 

157-GUNBOAT  DAVE.    By  M.  Eedwin-. 

158-CEN.W.  T.SHERMAN.  VauOrden. 

159-SABER  AND  SPUR.   By  Mou  Myrtle 

160-BRAVE  BEN.    ByM.C.Wulsb. 

161-THE  FATAL  CARBINE.    Wilmot. 

162-HANDSOME    JACK.    By  P.  Kaycee 

163-HARD-TACK.    By  Major  Brisbane. 

164    LITTLE  IRISH.    By  Ward  Edwards. 

165-CHAIN-SHOT.    By  Col.  Oram  Eflor. 

166    FREEDOM'S  SONS.    By  Redwing. 

167-MORGAN'S     ROUGH-RIDERS. 
HyMajor  A.  F.Grant. 

168-LIEUTENANT  STEVE.    By  Hoyne. 

169-MISSION  RIDGE.    By  Major  Wilmot 

170~DARINC  DAN.    By  Ward  Edwards. 

I7I-YANKEE  STEVE.    By  M.  Redwing. 

I  72-THE  FIGHTING  FIFTH.    Goode. 

173-FARRACUT'SSPY.    By  A.F.Grant 

174-THETRAITORCENERAL.  Hoyne 

175-CAPTAIN  IRONWRIST.    Wilmol. 

176    GEN.  P.  H.SHERIDAN.  VanOrden 

177-CAMP-FIRES.    By  W.wcn  Walteic. 

178-JOHN  BROWN'S  RAID.    Merrill. 

179-THE  LOST  CAUSE.    By  Redwine. 

180-LINCOLN'S  SPY.    By  A.  F.  Grant. 


182-FIVE  FORKS.     By  Morris  Hoyne. 

183  BETWEEN  THE  LINES.   Redwing. 

184  HARPER'S  FERRY.  By  w,  Wilmot, 

185  SHERIDAN'S    RIDE.    Roland  Dare. 
186-CLEAR   GRIT.    By  Mailine  Manl.y. 
J87-THE  RIVALCOURIERS.  By  Harry 

188-BEFORE    PETERSBURG.      By 

Major  A.  F.  Grant. 
189-DOWN  IN  DIXIE.    By  Hugh  Allen. 
I  90    LIBBY  PRISON.    By  Oram  EHor. 
I9I-WAR'S  ALARM.  By  MorrisRedwing. 


192     UNDER  FIRE.    By  A.  P.  Morris 

1  93-  M  A  R  C  H I N  G  O  N .  By  Marline  Slanly. 
194-SWORDANDSASH.  By Mon Myrtle. 
195-BORDER  GUERRILLAS.    Hoyne. 

196  MOSBY'S  TRAIL.    By  M.  Redwing. 

197  BLACK  CUD  JO.    By  Lieut.  Keene. 
198-BRAVE    COLONEL    KELLY.     By 

Beniunl   NV^iylL. 

199  ISLAND    NUMBER   TEN.    Frazier. 

200  WINNING  HIS  SPURS.    1!<  Ivins. 
20(-A  YANKEE  MIDDY,    nylhards. 
202-  COLD  HARBOR,     ly  IMaiul  Due. 
203    FIGHTING  JOE  HOOKER.  Manly. 
204-BOMB  PROOF,     By  A.  P.  Morris. 
205-A  SOLDIER  OF  FATE.    By  O.  Etlor. 
206-CUSTER  AND  HIS  MEN.    Manly. 
207-THE    ARMY   DETECTIVE.    EUor. 
208    IN  FOR  THE  WAR.    By  W.  Edwards. 
209-OLD  POTOMAC.     By  Col.  L.  Leslie. 
210-PIONEER  PETE.    By  M.  Redwing. 
21  l-UNION  JACK.    By  Ward  Edwards. 

2  12-ANDERSONVILLE  STOCKADE. 

By  Alee  Forbes  {War  Correspondents 
2  13-OUTWITH  KILPATRICK.  Keene. 
214    THE     SOLDIER     MAGICIAN. 

By  Corporal  Morris  Hoyne. 
215-ROUGH  AND  READY.    ByO.Eflor. 
2  16    PARTISAN  PATE.    By  M.  Redwing. 
2  17-THE  SKY  SCOUTS.    ByOr.amEflor. 
218-THE   OCEAN   DETECTIVE. 

By  Major  A.  F.  Grant. 
219-DARING    MICKEY  LOFTUS.    By 

Ser-ennt  .Mile*  McCanu. 
220-CAPTAIN  MONTAGUE.  Southard. 
221-SKIRMISHER  SAM.    By  A.  Forbes. 
222-THE  LOYAL  GUIDE.    By  Redwing. 

223  FORT  SUMTER.  By  Maj.  A.  F. Grant. 

224  FACING  THE  FOE.    By  W  Edwards 

225  THE  GIRL   GUERftlLLA.    Merrill 

226  VETERAN  DAN  ;  or,  The  Old 
HeroofSharpstaurg.  A  Story  of  Lees 
Invasion  of  Maryland.     Ity  Morris  Redwing. 

227-PRESCOTT'S  GUERRILLAS; 
or,  A  Fight  for  the  Great  Bertram 
Fortune.  A  stirring  Story  of  Tennessee 
During  the  War.    By  Judire  Baldwin. 

228-WILSON'SCREEK  ;or,"l  Fights 

MitSigel."    By  Duke  Duncan. 
229-UNDER   GUARD;  or.  Raid   and 
Battle    in    Kentucky.    By  Corporal 

Morris  Hoyne. 
230    BATTERY   BOB;  or.  Crest  and 
Plain   at   Fredericksburg.    By  An- 
thony P.  Morris. 
231-SIGNAL  SERVICE  SAM;or,The 
S i  ege  of  K  n  oxv  i  I  le .    By  ward  Edwards, 
"High  Private."  U.S.  V. 
232-THE  WAR  DETECTIVE;  or.  Se- 
cret Service  in  the  Rebellion.   A 
Story  of  Booth's  Great  Conspiracy.    By  Maj, 
A.  F.  Grant. 
233-PHIL,  THE  SCOUT  ;  or,  A  Fight 
for  Beauregard's  Dispatches.    A 
Story  of  Pittsburg   Landing.     By  Captain 
Ilean  Verne. 
234-"  TO  HORSE  ; "  or.  The  Winged 
Scout    of  Georgia.     By   Anthony   P. 
Morris. 
235-LION-HEARTED  LUKE  ;  or.  The 
Plan  to  Capture   Mosby.   A  story 
of  Perilous  Adventure  in  the  War  of  the 
Rebellion.    By  Ward    Edwards,  "  High  Pri- 
vate," U.  s.  y. 
236-THE  SWORD  CHAMPIONS;  or. 
Rival   Spies  of  Chancellorsville. 
A  story  of  the  Battles  in  the  Thickets  of  the 
Rappahannock.    By  Anthony  P.  Morris. 
237    LOYAL  NED;  or,  The  Last  Cruise 
of  the  Alabama.    A  Romance  of  the 
Famous  Rebel  Privateer.    By  the  author  of 
"  Before  Petersburg." 
238-THE  RIVAL  CADETS;  or.  From 
West  Point  to  Battlefields.    A  stir- 
ring story  of  Adventure  in  the  Late  War. 
By  Ward  Edwards,  U.  S.  V. 


239-KlLPATRICK'S  BEST  BOWER; 
or,  A  Cavalry  Sweep  Through 
Georgia.     By  Marline  Manly. 

240  ON  SHILOH'S  FIELD  ;  or,  Fight- 
ing Kit  of  Kentucky.  By  ward  Ed- 
wards, "  Hii^h  Private,"  U.  S.  V. 

241-THE  WAR  REPORTER;  or.  Bat- 
tle Smoke  Among  the  Mount- 
ains. By  Hugh  Allen,  of  the  New  York 
Press. 

242-SHARPSHOOTER  AND  SPY;  or. 
The  Terrible  Panic  at  Bull  Run. 
ByMnjor  A.  F.  Grant. 

243-MAD  SAM  THE  CAVALRYMAN; 
or,  With  Sheridan  in  the  Shenan- 
doah.   By  Mark  Wilton. 

244  THE  MOUNTAIN  CANNONEER; 
or,  A  War  Mystery  of  Antietam. 
By  Anthony  P.  Morris. 

245-TAKEN  AT  FREDERICKS- 
BURG; or.  The  Great  Tunnel  at 
Libby  Prison.  By  Aleck  Forbes,  "War 
Correspondent." 

246-CHICKAHOMINY  JOE;  or,  Mc- 
Clellan's  Wonderful  Boy  Spy.  By 
Ward  Edwards,  U.  S.  V, 

247-AN  ARMY  TEAMSTER  DETECT- 
IVE ;  or,  The  Slaughter  at  Spott- 

Sylvania.    By  A. P.Morris. 

248-A  DASHING  YANKEE  MIDDY; 
or.  Before  Vicksburg  with  the 
Gunboat  Flotilla.  By  Corporal  Morris 
Hoyne. 

249^-KILPATRICK'S  FAMOUS  RIDE; 
or.  Pilgrim  Joe's  Fight  for  Free- 
dom.   By  J.  M.  Merrill. 

250-BEFORE  RICHMOND;  or.  The 
Terrible  Mystery  of  Foxhall 
House.    By  Major  A.  F.  Grant. 

251-VOLUNTEER  DUKE;  or.  The 
Panic  at  Pittsburg  Landing.  By 
Duke  Duncan,  of  the  Ohio  Volunteer  In- 
fantry. 

2S2-FREMONT,THE  PATHFINDER; 
or.  Bullet  and  Bayonet  on  Mis- 
souri Battlefields.  By  Captain  Mark 
Wilton. 

253-SIEGE-GUNS  AT  FISHER;  or. 
Perils  of  the  Great  Bombard- 
ment.   ByMajorA.  F.Grant. 

254-WiTH  THE  BOYS  IN  BLUE  ;  or. 
Private  Archie  Cordon's  Career. 
A  Thrilling  Story  of  Adventure  Down  Ml 
Dixie.    By  Marline  Manly. 

255-STONEWALL  JACKSTON'S  DIS- 
PATCH-BEARER ;  or.  The  Wild 
Rider  of  the  Shenandoah.  By  An- 
thony P.  Morris. 

256-ALONC  THE  POTOMAC;  or. 
Fighting  Pat,  of  the  Irish  Bri- 
gade. A  Droll  and  EiCiting  Story  of  the 
War.    By  Bernard  Wayde. 

257-THE  OLD  KNAPSACK;  or.  Long- 
street's  Mad  Charge  at  Knoxville. 
By  Aleck  Forbes,  "  War  Correspondent." 

[Ready  Aug.  13. 

258-CARL,  THE  UNION  SCOUT;  or. 
The  True  Blue  Sons  of  Tennes- 
see. A  Rousing  Tale  of  Hood's  Last  Cam- 
paign. BvMajor A.F.Grant.  [Ready Aug. 20. 

259-CAMP  AND  CONFLICT;  or. 
From  Mill  Springs  to  Vicksburg. 
A  Rattling  Storv  of  Tennessee.  Bv  Mon 
Mvrtle  '  [Ready  Aug.  27. 

260  THE  LAST  CHARGE;  or.  Crossed 
Swords  at  Antietam.^  By  Corporrl 
Morris  Hoyne.  [Ready  Sept.  3. 


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